


Are We There Yet?

by Toroto



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: ASL, Awful Puns, Depression, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, He has good intentions though?, Lots of both, Minor Violence, Music, Other, Panic Attacks, Reader Insert, Reader Is Not Frisk, Sans is a dick sometimes, Selectively Mute Reader, Singing as a coping mechanism, Slow Burn, monster racism, reader is female, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6146658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toroto/pseuds/Toroto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You sing like you are dying. The words leave your lips before you can stop them, a plea, a hope, a whisper as you sing and don't stop. Better to let yourself feel for a moment than to implode later. It helps push away the pain for a moment.<br/>Little did you know was that someone who was listening would one day chip away the darkness that swallowed you whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starlight People

**Author's Note:**

> This entire fic gain's its name from Are We There Yet by Ingrid Michaelson. Feel free to listen at your leisure:  
> [[Song]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOYOce5iU0g)

It was hard, sometimes, looking back on the years that spread out to make up your life. Long, tiresome, painful, agonizing, lonely… sometimes it was hard to come up with a solid reason why you were still breathing, still thinking. It hurt, at times, remembering every face of disappointment that had looked down on you, every sad shake of a head as feet shuffled away. The cold feeling of emptiness was such a large part of all your memories, no matter how changing and fluxing those memories were at times.

It’s hard knowing that you have hurt everyone you have touched.

There was good there too, though. You couldn’t deny that there was some light in the darkness, some sort of shine in the abyss. A smile, a kind word, a friendly gesture, just making things a little better on a cloudy day. A stranger offering to share their umbrella, a bus driver stopping to let you on as you run to catch up to it, a compliment on your appearance when you certainly didn’t deserve the praise. There were little specks of happiness that made you want to smile sometimes.

It kept you living for those moments. You were fine living in the dark if you saw a star every now and again. The darkness just made those stars all the more beautiful.

You shuffled through your life like this, living day to day now rather than year to year. Every day was an effort that you were determined to overcome and while the slope kept getting steeper and the journey was getting more difficult with every day, you climbed it all the same. Sometimes on hard days, those stars seemed like they would never reappear. That you were being pulled deeper and deeper into the dark as you drowned in silence. Sometimes the stars were just a figment of your imagination.

Days like today were like a breath of air in a drowning ocean. A sea of stars where once clouds covered all of it. One day of peace. One day to be happy.

You weren’t letting it go to waste.

The old café was lit by a candles and lanterns, strings dangling from the ceiling, flickering out gold and amber on the faces of people around you. People whose eyes were closed, expression’s peaceful, thoughtful, reverent. Listening to the music that filtered through this dimly lit area like it was a spirit on a gust of wind.

Your fingers pluck quietly at strings that soothe your soul. The action itself is enough to make you sigh a little and some of the weariness on your expression fades away. Fingers moving back and forth, dancing in their own little way as you shift the guitar on your lap.

You weren’t just doing it for yourself, not today. Today you were here to see the stars, the lights of these people, and to let yourself feel the light again.

 _“They say that home is where the heart is_  
_I guess I haven't found my home”_

You hum into a mic seated in front of you. Your voice is soft, taking the song with the reverence it deserves. Speaking to the stars in front of you since you couldn’t go lay under them outside anymore.

_“And we keep driving round in circles  
Afraid to call this place our own”_

There’s a soft buzz in your ears, making you glance down at the ground for a moment, taking a tiny breath. Your fingers still pick at the notes that reach even those at the tables in the back, those with mugs and blankets that were curled up in the booths.

_“And are we there yet?”_

A fan whirls softly above all of your heads, the lantern light reflecting off the blades and casting flickered light on attentive faces turned towards you and the make-shift stage.

_“They say there's linings made of silver  
Folded inside each raining cloud”_

The darkness outside the café windows only emphasized the calmed warmth inside this sheltered haven, snow drifting in and out of view when reflecting lights from candles in the windowsill.

_“Well, we need someone to deliver  
Our silver lining now”_

Your voice builds slightly, pleading, as you turn your head to the windows, glancing out into the darkness as if you could see beyond it. See whoever might be out there, lost in the snow that had whipped across the city chaotically for the last several days.

 _“And are we there yet?_  
_And are we there yet?_  
_And are we there yet?”_

The sound of a chiming bell undercut the playing, not bothering you in the slightest as it died away. The temperature shifted in the warm shop for a brief moment, snow drifting through the open front door. Someone else entering the company of people finding happiness wherever they could.

_“Home, home, home  
Home, home, home. ”_

People curled on blankets across the café floor curled farther into their warmth. Something about the actions, such minor movements to make themselves more comfortable, to be at peace, made your voice die a little, blinking down at the guitar, your fingers still playing as if ordered to. The new person to enter moved silently across your vision, taking a seat on a chair. Another bit of starlight added to the cluster of bright souls around you… the thought made your voice come back, stronger.

_“They say you're really not somebody  
Until somebody else loves you”_

Couples took in your words as you picked back up, strength regained. Soft smiles passed their faces and shoulders pressed tighter to one another as they accepted the comfort of those near them.

_“Well, I am waiting to make somebody,  
Somebody soon”_

The chorus again approached as your voice turned into a melody that was begging, undercut with a desire that even you weren’t sure how to describe. It wasn’t something you could put into words; why something like this, this baring of your soul, could make you both sad and peaceful.

 _“And are we there yet?_  
_And are we there yet?_  
_And are we there yet?”_

Maybe these people didn’t understand what you were saying but that didn’t really matter. You were still saying what you wanted and as long as you got it out there, you were content with letting the rest of the world continue rotating undisturbed.

_“Home, home, home  
Home, home, home”_

A flash of movement caused your eyes to drift, the newcomer moving in the back to rest their head on their hand. The darkness was too deep back there for you to see their expression, candlelight only going so far. Maybe, you could at least hope, they needed to hear this song as much as you needed to release it.

_“Where you will lie on the rug  
While I play with the dog”_

You smile hopelessly, eyes darting away again. Such an ideal dream, wasn’t it, such a foreign entity. The song itself seemed to know how much of a dream it was asking for and yet, it kept asking over and over again, like it was still hopeful for that possible ending that was just out of reach.

 _“And it won't be too much_  
'Cause  this is too much  
'Cause this is too much for me to hold”

Your voice builds slowly, your chest feeling like it would implode if you couldn’t let the words escape. If you kept them locked up in your darkness, you’d never be free, you’d never feel peace. This was as much of a release as you could ask for from that darkness, just this one frozen moment in time.

_“This is too much for me to hold”_

Paper lanterns sway quietly as your words seem to die from your lips, the admission leaving you like a dying plea. You couldn’t hold these feelings forever and these starlight people surrounding you were willing to sit and listen as you whisper out a song that was only ever formed from pain.

You hum out the next few sounds, unable to make your lips form word, eyes gazing down at your hands as they played on. The song wasn’t over, though. It never really was, not for you.

_“Home, home, home”_

Wistful, soft, dying words left your lips as you fingers slow slightly. There is so much stillness now around you. All life seems to have stopped for a moment.

_“And are we there yet?”_

Don’t let the silence take over just yet.

_“And are we there yet?”_

If you stopped singing, the stars would fade out again.

_“And are we there yet?”_

If they were going to disappear, you should at least finish. They deserved that much.

_“Home, home, home  
Home, home, home, home”_

All stories end up ending at some point, however. All lights burn out, all stars fade, and eventually darkness is all you will have. You just have to let it end and wait patiently for a new star to be born for you to admire.

 _“And are we there yet?_  
_And are we there yet?_  
_And are we there yet?”_

It seemed like it was time for time to start up again.

_“And are we there?”_

The last few words trickled from your lips, a soft goodbye in the way you scanned the visible faces and let the last cord die into the still air.

 

\-----------------------------

 

It took a moment of dead quiet before the applause started, loud and thunderous from the all areas of the room. You allowed yourself to smile a little down at your shoes as you stood without a word. It took a bit of shuffling about here and there to unplug your guitar from jack that had been letting the music reach a bit farther back into the café then it normally would.

Dipping your head graciously, you grab your case and return probably your most precious possession to it. As you shuffle your way to your seat in the corner of the room, right by the entrance, you were happy to see that while many were applauding, most faces were softer than when you first went on stage. That was all you needed to know you did alright. You gave these people back something for all the little bright blips of light that their small kindnesses did for you every day. They seemed more thoughtful and you could swear there was a shimmer in one or two of their eyes.

With a breathless huff, you allow yourself to fall back into the booth you had stationed yourself in alone. You hadn’t had anyone to come with you anyway, not that it mattered. Sometimes it was a good thing to let out stuff like this by yourself.

As the applause finally died away, light chatter filled the room, a sound you were actually pleased to just close your own eyes and listen to. Happy people talking and being happy. It was sort of magical, right?

This was one of your favorite things to attend when you could find time. Time between living and breathing and being a normal functioning human being. This tiny coffee shop and café at the heart of the city had this charm that couldn’t be denied. It was a sanctuary from the office buildings and the stench of despair that usually floated from the corporate shits that boxed in the charming hideaway. Law office over there, Stock adviser over there, metal buildings every which way you look and then right in the middle of it was this tiny place that held open mic nights on snowy days, origami flowers hanging from vines that crept up the walls and paper lanterns lit every evening.

It was places like this that made you happy you were alive even still.

Another player took the stage a few minutes later but you were too busy breathing quietly and staring out at the snow to your right to listen too much. Their song was much lighter-hearted than yours but that wasn’t a criticism. Any type of music was good in here.

You didn’t notice for the longest time the eyes on you as you lean your head against the glass separating you from the snow outside. It took another two songs to fade in and out, more applause that you joined in briefly for, and another song to begin for you to make a note of it.

The person who had entered during the beginning of your song, the one in the corner, watched silently from their spot, head still resting on their hand, only having shifted enough to turn their gaze in your direction now. Only pinpricks of light shone out from their hoodie that kept them warm from the weather that seemed to be to be picking up in intensity by the second. The pinpricks likely a reflection of their eyes from the candles that were scattered around them. You couldn’t read their expression otherwise.

Their free hand raised and they gave the smallest of waves, just a little tilt of their hand in one direction but it still made you smile. You weren’t sure why, but back when you were singing, you knew that you had sensed that they might need the song like you had. You knew from experience that sometimes listening was just as good as letting it out.

You dip your head a fraction of an inch, acknowledging their wave. Their expression beneath that hood was unreadable but by the way they crossed their arms over their chest immediately after, leaning back into their seat, you figured they were relaxing.

Either way, as much as you wanted to stay, it was probably time for you to leave this sanctuary.

The snow outside was only blowing harder from the looks of it and you had a ways to walk to get back to where you lived. If it increased in speed at all, you would not be able to navigate back without slipping and sliding around or falling on your ass in the snow. Most people here probably had cars parked in one of the nearby garages… but your only real choice was walking.

With a reluctant sigh, you stand, shifting yourself out of the booth as you looked resentfully at the door. Leaving this place was the last thing you wanted. It was warm here, happy, there were people who were content just to be alive for once. Going out in the snow would mean putting all that behind you.

You groan a little under your breath, reluctance making you move a bit slower as you gather up your stuff. Your scarf draped over the table now comes up to wrap tightly around your neck; your thick jacket you had discarded earlier due to the natural warmth of the shop being pulled on right after the scarf. Gloves? Check. Cap? Check. Guitar safely locked up in it’s case? Check. The case wasn’t actually all that important, it could get pelted with snow for all you care. It was old and reliable and you knew for certain that it wouldn’t let anything happen to the object safely stored inside.

You seemed like you had everything and with a reluctant glance at the area around you, you shuffle towards the door. Only as your hand reached for the nob did you pause, patting down your pockets to pull out your wallet. If you were going out in the ass numbing weather, you might as well have something warm to drink on the way, right?

You were probably stalling, you realized, but you were okay with that realization.

Shuffling over the counter at the side of the café, the area more lit than the rest of the shop with dimmed overhead lights and the glow from different coffee machines.

“You’re actually heading out in that?” The man behind the counter questioned as he leaned towards you. You knew him by name from all the times you’d been in here. Jared, the owner of this little paradise. His smile was one of the many things that lit up your life’s personal sky.

You shrug a little and give a sheepish expression. You knew you were an idiot for leaving the warmth and comfort here but you did have work in the morning that you would have to dredge yourself out of bed for. You couldn’t get stuck sleeping in a booth during a snow storm like you had last time they had this little event (the snow had come in fast and was pretty unexpected; most people at the open mic had taken shelter till morning to outlast it).

Raising a hand, you give him a small 1 with a single finger and he laughed, knowing what you meant without any words being necessary. One ration as you head off to face the war outside. One cup of hot cholate that would help warm your hands as you trudge home.

You didn’t just love this place because of the atmosphere. It was genuinely an amazing café. The coffee was great, the tea was to die for, and Jared had this weird thing he did with shaved vanilla flakes in the hot chocolate that had you skin tingling with goosebumps as you drank it. You could come and sit down, eat muffins and little cakes that you figure could rival any mother’s cooking, all while enjoying good music and a relief from the world outside.

It was really heaven to you.

The smell of freshly made hot chocolate wafted through the entire café, making your eyes roll a little in the back of your head. It was probably contagious, this desire, since half of the heads not actively watching the comedy act on stage now turned to where you hovered. You could read nearly every expression since you had worn it at least a million times before. It was one of “Oh, damn, that smells good. I want that in my mouth right now, please and thank you.”

You would bet good money that when the routine ends, Jared would have at least five or six more orders to fill. You hide your smile in your scarf. Too bad for them, you got here first. You didn’t have to wait in the resulting line.

“Extra vanilla, just how you like it!” Jared spoke next to you, making your head turn to look at the offered cup. This time, you didn’t hide your smile at all, flashing it at him warmly as you toss him more than enough to cover the drink. You hated caring around spare change and by now, he knew it.

“See yah same time next week,” Jared added as you grab the cup, tossing out a teasing wink before you turn. Waving a playful goodbye with your free hand as you grasp the cup that was warming your palms through the gloves.

You were much more prepared to face the snow now, armed with a cup of happiness and the reminder that you weren’t leaving forever. You’d be back. Of course you would.

Stepping out into the storm, you take out large sip of the /real/ courage elixir, and tug your scarf up over your nose. You had a long way to walk before would feel warm again.

 

 


	2. Colder yet Colder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your hand flops onto the light switch, flicking it up, shielding your eyes with your arm in advance so that you weren’t completely blinded.  
> And… nothing happened.  
> Your back straightens a little and you glance at the switch in confusion. You flick it again.  
> Nothing.

It was hard to get comfortable when you were shivering. Cold prickled your bare skin. Arms, legs, neck, face, far too cold for your liking. Why was it so cold? Your head reals slightly as you crack open your eyes into the darkness.

Mind fogged by sleep, it took you a good thirty seconds longer than it needed to for your hands to find the blankets that were supposed to have been covering you while you slept. Somewhere during the night you must have kicked them off instead of cuddling closer and in the end, you were down to just the sheets covering you.

It was too early for this shit.

Normally the clock next to you would have given you an exact time but it was dark in the area the red glow normally originated from. It didn’t matter too much either way.

Even with the blankets now tugged back onto your body, it was too cold. Way too cold.

Your spine pops loudly as you sit up sluggishly. There were extra blankets in the spare closet, you would just have to confiscate them too.

Much like a walking mindless zombie, you shift yourself out of bed. Your clothes from last night lay discarded across the bedroom ground, scarf over on the desk, hat tossed up on the dresser. You had been far too tired when you got back from the café to do bother with personal cleanliness. Really, it was just lucky that you hadn’t gotten caught in the storm entirely as the winds had picked up more and more as you walked. Staying even an hour would have probably prevented you from getting home.

As it had been, you just changed to pajama clothes, set your phone alarm to wake you up for work, and curled under the covers the moment you got back. You’d clean later… probably.

It was too early to do it now, though. Maybe after work. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see how cluttered your bedroom actually was. That would imply people actually came by to visit.

Your feet were freezing as you walk and you curse not keeping socks on while you slept. The wooden floors wouldn’t be so terrible to walk on if you had.

Where was that damn closet? It was too dark in here.

You fumble briefly for the door handle when you find it, eyes squinted in the dark as you pull it open. Now it was just a moral dilemma of whether or not to turn on the lights. God, you hated waking up in the middle of the night.

Your hand flops onto the light switch, flicking it up, shielding your eyes with your arm in advance so that you weren’t completely blinded.

And… nothing happened.

Your back straightens a little and you glance at the switch in confusion. You flick it again.

Nothing.

Again?

Shit.

The power was out, wasn’t it. Maybe the storm had done something to the power lines or whatever but it made a lot of sense now why you were so cold and why your clock hadn’t been working. No power equals no time and no heater.

Rubbing the corner of your eyes, you sigh. Did you even own a flashlight to help you get around? Your phone was probably the only light you were able to get access to and who knows where that was. It could be in the clothes on the floor or somewhere out in the living room, maybe the kitchen. You were a tornado when it came to things that belonged to you. Picking things up and moving them somewhere else completely different, proceeding immediately after to forget about the act entirely. It made keeping things organized hard and finding something you need immediately even worse.

The day hadn’t started out great, it would seem.

It took you another five minutes to wander your way out of the bedroom and down the hallway of your empty apartment, hand braced against the wall to steady yourself. You probably were responsible enough to have a flashlight around here somewhere, right? There was vague memories in your head of owning a flashlight once upon a time but that didn’t mean you knew where to find it now. Your only guess was a kitchen drawer and that was stretching it.

A soft shuffling noise issued from your right and you glance that direction with a yawn, fixing your gaze on a pair of semi-lidded eyes reflecting dimly from little light of the kitchen window.

 _Sorry Tiberius, didn’t mean to wake you up_ , you apologize mentally to the small cat that was probably a lot warmer than you under that coat of fur, curled up on one of the few catbeds scattered around the house. Your footsteps and blind meandering had probably disturbed his sleep. _Guess if I’m forced to be up, you have to be too._

Neither of you were going back to sleep for a while. It took you twenty minutes of rustling through drawers and raising different flashlight feeling objects really close to your face for you to finally find the stupid thing. A sigh of relief escapes you as you flick on the stupid elusive thing, the kitchen finally being visible. The battery was pretty drained and the light was dim but hey, the flashlight let you actually see where you were walking, so who really cared.

Pointing the light around the kitchen, your little smile turns to a sharp and frustrated frown as you notice what had, the entire time, been placed on one of the far counters. Damn phone was here all along.

At least you could check the time.

The phone was almost dead to from lack of overnight charging but you still had enough battery life to see the time flash up. 6:03 a.m. Really?

Your eyes dart to the window to your right. You’d have expected it to be brighter in the house if it was really that time but the swirling snow seemed to be preventing any and all light from being filtered through. Gross.

Well, work was clearly not an option. You’d just have to wait for the apartment building to get it’s backup generators working and then, when it got a bit warmer, you’d figure out a game plan involving snow supplies. You hadn’t… thought far enough in advance to really prepare for the weather.

In the meantime, with the light you now had, it was a lot simpler to go to your closet and grab the extra blankets stacked up on the high shelf above you. The bed wasn’t going to offer you much warmth with the heat out but if you layered yourself heavily in a mountain of them, eventually you would get close to being warm again.

 _Come on, Ti. You’re coming with me,_ You mutter as you stop back in the kitchen, scooping up the animal in your arms. _You are a heat source as much as the blankets are. And your internal body clock Is a hell of a lot better than mine. You’ll let me know when it’s time to wake up so I can feed you._

The feline didn’t seem to protest too much, squirming a little as you lifted him and carry him back to where your fort was waiting. He was warm against your chest already, head pressed into the crook of your arm that was cupped under his body. If anything, after the initial distress from the movement, he seemed happier here than he was in the kitchen. At least you had a willing victim to leech your warmth from.

He didn’t sleep with you often so it was a change of pace for the both of you..

You tucked him up next to your pillow, petting his head slowly. The one companion you had to keep the darkness at bay. A little light to make you smile when you needed it, when you had to fight the world alone.

You fell back asleep like this, your hand draped lightly over the speckled gray form.

\----------

You wake up to a paw on your face, pushing it slightly. It was a feeling you knew pretty well. A small yawn slipped from your lips again, and you blink your eyes open once more. On your chest and onto of the mountain of warm blankets that covered you was Tiberius, dark eyes insistent as he nudged at your cheek again.

He always did this when you slept past when he normally got food. An alarm clock if your alarm clock didn’t end up waking you up.

 _I gotcha, bud. Give me a second,_ You smile as you sit up, capturing the animal in your arms before he could jump off you to the floor. It was a bit warmer in here than when you fell asleep and a quick surveying glance around the room let you know that the backup generators for the building had been fixed sometime while you napped. The clock to your right was blinking angrily for you to reset it and the closet light was on.

And you weren’t a popsicle anymore, so that was good.

With a bit more encouragement from a meowing Tiberius, you finally make yourself get up and get dressed, heading into the kitchen to feed him as you do every morning. He had dry food always out for him but the morning stuff was wet. It gave him incentive to wake you up if he wanted it and not the other stuff.

There was streams of light shifting through your kitchen window now which was a relief. Maybe the storm had settled down for a little while. They normally were calm for long but it would be enough time to go and get some necessary survival gear for when it picked back up.

The plan led you to add a couple layers to your attire, picking up your discarded hat and scarf and throwing on an even thicker red winter coat. It was going to be in the negatives outside, you were sure of it, so it was probably a good idea to bundle up. Didn’t want to lose any limbs today.

With reluctance, you head out of the small apartment, climbing the floors down to the lobby. You didn’t mind the snow so much if you were inside but the thought of going out didn’t fill you with any sort of determination. It was just necessary and that’s about it.

Andddd…. It’s colder than you expected. The chill of wind hit you the moment you stepped out of the apartment doors, shivering as you clasp your arms over your chest. The entire city street was filled with white. Doorsteps, sidewalks, tops of houses, windowsills, just about everywhere you looked there was several feet of snow. A snowplow drove lazily moved down the end of the street, clearing out the road of most of the white crap but the sidewalks were pretty bad.

And you were going to have to walk in it.

Fun, right? _It was just a good thing you bundled up._

Just one block at a time. You’d be fine.

It was with that mentality and a lot of stubborn will that you made your way to the café. It was first stop on the list of places you needed to go and it was on the way anyway so why really not. The dim ‘open’ sign still flickered in the window but Jared lived right above the shop anyway. He didn’t ever really need to close down.

Your main concern was whether anyone had been stuck in the building when the worst of the weather hit.

A bell chimes above your head as you enter, the smell of coffee permeating your senses the second you closed the door. From the looks of it, your fear had been pretty justified. A lot of familiar faces still sat in the booths, cups of coffee warm in their hands as they chatted, blankets slung over their bodies. You would bet good money that the ones who drove cars had been forced to stay the night in the place.

Jared hummed lightly behind the shop counter, not noticing you yet as he worked. The dude was too kind to his customers, really. You doubt it even once crossed his mind that letting people sleep in your shop was dangerous. The dude was all kindness and no self-preservation… but you appreciated that about him.

The bell chimes again and you move out of the way as someone, or two someone’s in this case, enter the place behind you. A small child, maybe only ten or so, seems to be tugging on the other person’s hand in excitement.

“Hold on kiddo. _Snow_ need to be in a hurry. I mean, I know I said the hot chocolate was good but it would be _ice_ if you were a bit more patient on this lazy bones,” The taller one said, the clear emphasis on puns making you smile.

The familiar blue hoodie from last night passed by next to you, the same person who had entered your song and waved at you afterwards. They were back, it would seem, but with a kid that, unlike their friend, was bundled up for the weather like a giant marshmallow.

You let them head to the counter ahead of you, clearly in no rush to get your order. The child was literally bouncing up and down in excitement anyway, you didn’t have the heart to make them wait even longer for their drink.

The older person turns briefly towards you as he’s dragged along and you for a moment catch sight of white smiling teeth before they are dragged to the counter.

The kid is eager, pressing down on the little service bell that is supposed to call Jared’s attention if he is working and there is a customer ready to order.

The owner’s eyes shot up and towards the pair at the counter, setting down the mugs in his hands and turning towards them happily.

“Hey, good to see you back. Seems you brought a friend this time,” Jared spoke casually as you watched on, the man leaning over the counter to look at the kid with a warm smile. “So, what can I get for you today, pal?” He asked, speaking directly to the marshmallow who seemed to be vibrating happily as they bounced up and down on the balls of their feet.

“Two hot chocolates!” Was their clear answer, chiming happily out as they held up a little gloved hand with two fingers up. “Uncle Sans said they were the best!”

Jared took the compliment with a grin, glancing at the older form whose back was still to you. “Great to get such a big compliment from him, then. I’ll do my best to make it delicious, I’ll let you know when the order’s ready. Feel free to toss your coats and stuff by the door while you wait.” The child nodded with vigor before immediately beginning to peel off their hat and scarf, shuffling past you once again to place the clothing on the rows of hangers and stuff that were used as coatracks by the door.

You had been right about them being bundled up. It took them a good minute to pull off all of the layers they had on. They were a lot skinnier than they appeared at first, blue and purple sweater hugging their body, but they were still young. You weren’t exactly sure whether they were even a boy or a girl, with their hair falling just above their shoulders. Didn’t matter too much either way.

Their eyes dart up to meet your with a smile and you realize you had been staring. It didn’t seem like they minded, as their smile grew wide and they waved their little hand once in your direction before turning back to their friend.

Your eyes follow in that direction before stilling on the figure whose hood was down now, hands casually stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

Was that a… skeleton?

Definitely a skeleton.


	3. A New... Friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold = sign language

Monsters had been around for about two years now. It had been big news when they first appeared from underneath the depths of Mt. Ebott, surprising every human that these kind of things from fairy tales definitely existed. You remember the first image you got was of a towering creature in robes and fur, standing with several humans who seemed to be talking with him in front of the mountain. The news had covered as much of the action as they were allowed for the first several days, documenting the accords that went down and the peace treaty that was established for these people.

You remember it being hard, to find peace.

At first, the only real feeling of the human race in reaction to these people was shock. How could these things be here? Monsters didn’t exist! They were just legends, nothing that actually happened to exist. The closest that ever came to being referred to as monsters were things from the bottom of the ocean that were dragged up and even those were deemed that jokingly. No one had believed monsters were a thing that were real and yet, now thousands of them were emerging from underneath a millennium old dormant volcano like magic.

The second thing that filtered through the people was fear. Wide spread fear, pure terror really, that these things would hurt someone. For the most part, the monsters kept to segmented locations around the mountain, quarantined and shielded from the news casters that would have put them on air. A few showed up every now and again, but as a general whole, no one knew what these monsters looked like or what they were planning.

Everyone was panicked that they would go and act like the monsters you heard of in stories. People drew up images of towering behemoths with the intent to kill in their minds and as a whole, they were terrified. The lack of available coverage in the initial stages had caused fear to be saturated through everyone’s minds.

Some even said it was the end of times. Armageddon, the Apocalypse, the end of Humanity entirely.

It was only when the king and queen of the monsters stepped forward more publicly that the worst of the fear subsided. They had called for peace, claiming they had been trapped down there for hundreds upon hundreds of years but did not mean any harm to the people of the world. They just wanted to be free. They didn’t want to hurt anyone at all.

A small child, human, was with them during all of these speeches, face wide with an earnest smile as they held the hands of both the king and queen. Ambassador of the monsters, they called themselves proudly.

It was the sight of the child that actually brought your heart peace. They might have been small but clearly the monsters didn’t mean harm or the kid probably wouldn’t be there.

A peace accord with the world had been reached two weeks after the first reveal and the government had snapped into action, processing the monsters and giving them identification, essentially working them into the system. Monsters were allowed the same civil rights as humans from that point on. Temporary buildings were hastily built to house all of the creatures that came out of the mountain while systems of trade began to work to incorporate the resources that the monsters brought with them.

Gold was pretty valuable after all and the monsters had a ton of it.

It took a few months for the monsters to finally spread out away from the mountain, traveling to different cities across the world and incorporating themselves in daily life.

Only about hundred thousand had lived under that mountain. In comparison to the human population, that was highly insignificant… so you didn’t end up seeing very many monsters around for a while. They were vastly outpopulated and statistically it was just rarer for them to be around than for a human.

You saw a few of them occasionally, walking across the street from you, their bodies brightly colored or a bit strange to look at, but other than that, it was better to just assume someone was human than that someone was a monster. You were much more likely to guess correctly.

There was also the heavy hatred that still flowed from a lot of people about these creatures but you didn’t like to think too much about that.

You never really had the energy to keep up with the news, of course, or maybe you would have realized that your city was a becoming more populated with monsters. Something about your city being one of the first to establish an equal rights law for monsters, one that force employees to give monsters equal pay. You had heard something about it being mentioned at work but you weren’t up to date on monster policies or trends so it hadn’t been too important. The only thought you had even given the policy was a small “oh, good for them” before moving on to other topics at hand.

You were completely fine that they existed, you just never really interacted with any of them.

\---------------------

This was one of the reasons you were surprised when you turned around and saw a skeletal face right across from you. Sure, you’d seen odd looking monsters on TV and around every now and then but a skeleton? That was… new.

Your eyes widen slightly as you try hard not to stare, glancing between the child who had taken hold of the skeleton’s gloved hand and was swinging it happily in front of them. They didn’t look like you would imagine a human skeleton to look like… it was slightly more cartoon like. Smooth round head, hollowed out eye sockets, teeth that smiled wide across the bottom half of their face. Where a human would have a nose, they just had an upside down heart cavity. There were pinpricks of white you could see, even from this distance, inside their eye sockets as they looked down fondly at the child before them. Their voice was pretty deep, so maybe it was a guy, but you had no real way of knowing either. Or wait, the kid had said Uncle, so yes, a guy.

Still, it was strange sight that had your mouth parting slightly and your eyes wide.

You were definitely staring now.

Apparently the skeleton could sense it as not a moment after that thought, those pinpricks raised to meet your gaze, still smiling largely. He had no lips, could he even stop smiling?

You should be embarrassed for being caught observing and admittedly, a flush did rise to your cheeks, but it was hard to stop the curiosity that you felt as well. No monster you had ever seen before looked like this.

The skeleton’s eyebrows (or more like the area above his eyes) raised and the easiness off the smile seemed to fade a little. That was, until he actually seemed to recognize you.

His expression turned to one of interest and he raised a hand to his head, a tiny mock salute signaling you. Immediately after, he turned, bending down a little to ruffle the child’s hair. “Hey, kiddo, why not go find us a seat? I’ll wait here for the order.”

“Okay!” The child chirped out happily before jogging off towards the tables against the windowed wall that were still available.

The skeleton turned towards after that and you reach to rub at the back of your neck. Should you apologize for staring? Probably. It was rude, you knew, so yah, definitely should apologize. There were complications with the process but… maybe you could still do it all the same.

“You’re that singer from last night, huh, pal?” The skeleton said, having stepped a bit closer while you were distracted with your own thoughts.

You nod quickly and give a tiny smile of your own in return. Most of the people who had been in there at the café’s open mic at least recognized you, since you went there nearly every hosting to… let go.

“Never got the chance to say how good you were,” The skeleton actually winked, hand reaching out towards you to shake. “Name’s Sans. Sans the skeleton. Music has never been my _forte_ but I thought you were pretty good.”

That was a music pun. Wow. You actually couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from your lips as you reach out to take his gloved hand, shaking it once.

Now… to introduce yourself. That was a bit more complicated.

Normally you kept a pad of paper and a pen around to write what you needed to say but you hadn’t thought that far in advance when you had left the house this morning. The only people you had planned to interact with was Jared and the person at the checkout line at the store, neither of which you had needed to talk to for things to get done.

Rather hesitantly, you sign your name in front of you, fingers working extra slow to pronounce the letters. Most people didn’t know sign language, you knew that, and if need be, you could get Jared to tell Sans your name… but there was always that hope that maybe they had taken a class in high school or something and knew enough to be able to recognize your name.

San’s eyes dart down to your hands, expression confused for a second. You understood why… his only impression of you was with a voice. Most people you had to talk with knew that you didn’t speak, not normally. Singing was… a rare exception. Really your only exception. For him, his only knowledge of you was singing so it made this conversation a bit more awkward.

“Nice tah meet yah, _____” Sans said without missing a beat, eyes darting back up to your face as his smile widened a little.

Almost instantly you felt relief, the worry on your face fading away as you grinned widely. Your hands moved in a flurry as you sign in front of yourself.

 **“You know what I’m saying?”** You asked curiously, hoping beyond all hope that he didn’t just know the alphabet.

“Don’t look so shocked, kid. I’m not as much of a _bonehead_ as I seem,” He answered back and at that moment, you probably could have shouted with happiness. This was the kind of moments you were happy to experience. He knew what you were saying! No one usually knew what you were saying. Not only that but he was taking it in strides.

 **“That’s a relief. It’s nice to meet you, though!”** You answer right back, glee shining from your smile and eyes as you move to lean against the serving counter. **“99% of the times I try this, I just have people looking at me in confusion.”**

“Well consider me part of the one percent.” Sans rubbed at the back of his head, looking over you and then leaning slightly to the left. “We monsters are pretty good at knowing what people are saying, no matter the language. It’s kind of ingrained.”

You didn’t know that. It made sense now why the monsters who travelled to other countries fit in so well almost immediately. They were just able to pick up on the language and speak it. No issues communicating was a big plus side.

“Seems like you left just in time last night. Looks like half the people are still here after the storm,” He mused after a moment, letting you think as he glanced around the coffee shop. You had left just in time… but judging from the fact that he had needed to come into the shop too, he probably left not long after you did.

 **“Yah, it was _snow_ trouble getting back home when I did,” **You answer back, repaying his music pun from earlier with one of your own. You weren’t usually good at coming up with jokes like this but eh, you could banter with the best of them if need be.

What you weren’t expecting when you said the pun was for his smile to go supernova, eyes glowing intensely as he laughed heartily. It hadn’t even been that funny, you were pretty sure, but he took a lot of amusement from it, going so far as to bend over to seemingly catch his breath.

“Good one, kid,” He compliments when he calms down a little, beaming at you with all the joy of someone who had just found a winning lottery ticket on the ground.

A hum sounded from behind you, making you glance over your shoulder at that period of time. Jared seemed to have caught up with the orders and finished the one for Sans and the kid, setting it down on the counter.

“Didn’t expect to see you so soon, _____. Work get cancelled?” He asked, voice pleased as he began to ring up the hot chocolate order for Sans.

You nod once before glancing towards the window, making your expression displeased to prove your point.

“Yah, wasn’t expecting it to hit that hard either. We had probably fifteen or so people camp out here last night. Couldn’t get to their cars,” Jared responded, glancing towards Sans for a brief moment. “Did you end up going out in that storm? You were here for a while after it picked up and then just vanished. I was kinda worried.”

Sans just gave a halfhearted shrug. “Wasn’t so bad. I don’t really get cold. The wind just blows right through me,” He answered, still grinning as he paid for his drinks, grabbing the coffee cups. You could tell for a moment he hesitated, glancing over to where the kid was sitting at their chosen table, legs swinging back and forth. “You by yourself?”

“Want to come sit with us?” He asks when you tell him you are. It’s your turn to hesitate as you glance towards the table. You weren’t really good at small talk, not normally. Plus, wouldn’t it be a bit awkward for the kid if Sans just randomly brought over a stranger to sit with them? He didn’t know you and vice versa… yah, it would probably be too awkward. Just because he knew asl doesn’t mean that you were friends or anything. You weren’t really great at friendships.

 **“No thanks… I only came in to get a drink before heading out again,”** You answer, voice apologetic as you glance towards where Jared had shuffled off to, making your order without you even needing to ask for it. It was the same thing every time you came in here during the winter, after all, so there wasn’t much question anymore.

Sans’s smile dropped a little but he seemed to understand. “Yah sure. Well, I’ll see you around.”

With that, he trudged off with the drinks, greeted by a very happy child when he brought them over. Siding into one side of the table, you watch them both as the child grasps the cup in both hands, sipping for a moment before enthusiastically chugging the liquid that you knew was probably pretty damn hot.

Kid was tough as nails.

You waited in silence after that, occasionally turning to glance at the duo whenever movement from that table caught your eye. The kid seemed to be pretty animated, happily smiling, motioning with their hands, and moving whenever the need suited them.

Only when you glance over and notice the kid looking at you did you finally focus in on hearing what was being said. The café wasn’t too loud and the soft conversation could almost be heard over the chatter from the other tables.

“Is that them, Sans? The one you mentioned?” The kid asked, voice lowering to an attempt at a whisper that didn’t seem to come out like they intended. Maybe it was because of their wide eyed expression, curious as their gaze slides over to you again.

“Maybe… but don’t look at um now, kiddo. They will probably notice,” Sans answered, his back to you so you couldn’t see their expression. He was right, of course. If they were talking about you… you weren’t sure why. Maybe the skeleton had mentioned you to the kid because of your singing or something. You turn a little more towards the table, concentrating on listening. It wasn’t rude to ease drop if they were talking about you, right?

Why exactly were they talking about you anyway?

The kid was solidly avoid looking at you now, by advice of the skeleton, so you were free to watch them a bit more openly, frowning the entire time.

“How sure are you exactly?” The child asks, hands clamping down around the coffee cup a bit tighter, expression puzzled. 

“You tell me. Sense anything?” Sans answered, leaning over the table, right hand partially in your view as he propped up his head on it.

Jared was moving beside you, but you were having trouble focusing on him and whatever he was saying. He probably had your drink made and was trying to get you to take it but you couldn’t be blamed for being distracted. There were strangers talking about you not so subtly, like you weren’t even there. You understood why the kid might think they were be being quiet but surely Sans knew you were well within earshot.

And if he realized that, why were they still talking about you?

The child closed their eyes as they watched, mouth parting, and they sat still for a few moments, enough that you could feel your heart beat in your chest a bit more vividly.

A tap on your shoulder made you turn, the distraction causing you to miss the child’s answer. A cup was being held towards you, Jared looking a bit concerned by your distraction, but you assured him quickly it was nothing. There was no need for you to worry anyone and really, you weren’t supposed to be listening into the conversation anyway, right?

You took the cup and paid for it in quick succession, turning back to glance at the table. The conversation seemed to have continued even during your distraction as when you focused again, the there was a bit of a gap between the last question and what was being said.

“Yah, I understand. We’ll get it back soon enough though, promise,” Sans was saying, voice kind as you watch him reach out to ruffle the kids hair again, only resulting in the child swatting at the hand with a laugh.

The laughing died away and you figured it was probably time you got out of here. Even if they were talking about you, it didn’t make much of a difference. You were probably never going to see either of them again and you couldn’t let something this negative affect you. If you thought to much about why this was happening, you’d be spiraling down a much darker road than you want to.

Tightening your hand on your cup, you pull your scarf tighter around your neck and turn to go.

A final glance towards the skeleton had you moving even faster, embarrassment trying to creep in. He had turned and was looking at your retreating figure out the front door, smile almost completely gone. There was a knowing look in his eyes and in that moment, meeting them, you knew that he was aware you were listening. He had just continued on anyway despite the fact.

As you nearly sprint out the front door into the snow, the chilly wind a compliment to the blush on your face, you hear one last snippet of the words leaving the skeleton’s mouth.

“Don’t worry, Frisk. We’ll get your SOUL back.”


	4. Ketchup Ain't Just a Condiment, Babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter required some editing because whenever I looked at it on my screen, all I saw was weird symbols? I had to delete it and repost for it to work correctly >> Now it's back and good again.

You were a block away from the café before you slowed down your run, getting far enough away that you felt you were safe to lean back against one of the building walls and breathe. What the hell was that? You had only just met the guy and they were talking about you? The look in the skeleton’s eyes when he turned to you had been frighteningly cold, knowledgeable, but cold you realize.

There was something wrong about all of this.

Your chest physically hurt as you lean down, breathing increasing as you close your eyes tight. The skeleton’s eyes had been empty when they looked at you, those last few words slipping from his mouth. Why? What did you do to deserve that?

You breathe again, a bit more sharply, and rub your hand over your eyes. Anxiety began to spike in your chest, making it hurt all the more.

_Calm down, it’s fine. You’re fine._

You always had little moments like this, where it felt like everything was beginning to fold in on itself. Like your heart was on the verge of collapsing. Small little panic attacks that would escalate into bigger ones the longer you freaked out. You couldn’t let yourself fall into that state right now. You were in the middle of a street in bright daylight, for goodness sake’s.

Breathe. In, and Out. Calm down. It’s fine.

You repeat the mantra to yourself over and over again, chest aching the entire time, for several minutes before you finally manage to settle your rapid heartbeat. _Focus on something else in the environment, concentrate on that._

You watch the people that were beginning to emerge from the buildings as your distraction, eyes wandering over each one.

A women in suit who should not be wearing a pencil skirt because of the weather passed by you, shivering slightly but busying herself with her phone. Probably called into work and had to look professional for something or other.

Another women, this time bundled up properly, moving quickly through the crunching snow, eyes fixed on the gray sky above her, hands shoved deeply in the pockets of her coat.

A man who was talking to someone on their cellphone, smiling happily, almost lovingly as he passed by right in front of you. You caught a small bit of talk about “He’s already made a snowman?”. A father, maybe? That expression held such an enjoyment and care that you could only guess he was a father, probably out and about during the snowstorm’s pause.

You breathe again, blinking away the haze in your mind. Sometimes focusing on people other than yourself helped you calm down. It was not an avoidance method so much as a tool to remind you that you weren’t completely alone out here, even if it felt like it.

You were, after all, going to be fine. There was probably a misunderstanding or something. They weren’t talking about you. Of course not. You’d only heard a fifth of the conversation, it was very likely you got it out of context.

Your heart beat was back to normal finally and you felt well enough to start moving again, standing back up from where back was pressed against the brick wall behind you. There was even a little smile on your lips again. You knew yourself well enough after all those years to fight off the darkness that seemed to spring from your mind sometimes. You didn’t always win the fight but you had the methods to fight it off more now than you once did.

So, the store.

Choosing to focus on what you needed to do, you nod your head. Determination filled your body and you trudge off into the snow again.

\------------------

It did snow again that night just as it did before but to your relief, the power remained intact. It took another two days for you to effectively be able to leave the house without fear off the winds picking up and trapping you wherever you went. Which meant, sadly, you were going to have to go to work now.

Your boss called you that afternoon of the café run, letting you know they were effectively closed until further notice. Something about their water pipes being frozen to the point of actually cracking open. W No one wanted to go to a restaurant without any water to heat or cook or use the restroom with, especially not in a blizzard so there was no reason for servers to even go. You had no complaints on the time off so you just smiled and agreed to come back in whenever they got the issue fixed and opened up again.

It had been asked before why you chose to work at a waitress when you never spoke. How did you even manage to do it? It wasn’t actually as hard as people believed. You always had your explanation written out on a piece of paper to show a customer and, not wanting to be rude, nearly all of them were accepting of your situation. It also, surprisingly, got you more tips which you were not complaining about even if it made you feel shitty sometimes to accept their pity money. Most humans just liked to talk anyway, they didn’t need a second party pitching into the conversation, only someone to listen to them while they spoke. Simply being attentive and expressive with your face and hands was enough to convey what you wanted to say without ASL or words. Those who wanted to talk did and those who wanted a quiet lunch without you bothering them got that too. It was a win win, usually.

You were actually kind of eager to get back to work. Being a server wasn’t the prime time job, you knew, but it gave you something to do all day then sit on the couch with Tiberius eating peanut butter sandwiches and watching reruns of Dancing with The Stars. This was why you were happy to be called and told they were opening today bright and early.

According to the weather, the worst of the storm was over for good so there were a lot more people out and about today. The street sidewalks had actually been cleaned off at some point so there was only a thin layer of snow on them now. It made things monumentally easier for people to get to work and such when they weren’t forced to walk through a foot of snow.

People were going back to their offices, driving places, schools were opening again, everything was beginning to get back to the way things were.

That being said, it was still a pretty slow day at the restaurant. Normal days you only ever got to sit down on breaks but there was a slow movement of people actually in here, enough that you and the other servers were actually happy to see someone come in. You made most of your money on tips after all so having customers was a _good_ thing.

It was about late afternoon, near when you would begin to wrap up your shift, when it happened. You were back in the kitchen, listening to the story about how the chef had come in the day after the blizzard only to find at the heat was out and the water line that ran through the building had effectively broken and flooded the floor of the kitchen. Around the time you were hearing about how they had to call in people to mop up the mess, a head of a coworker appeared, mentioning that someone had been seated in your section. The first person in an hour! With a spring in your step, you reach and grab your notepad from behind you that you had chucked there when it seemed it wasn’t needed for a while.

Time to make some money.

One of the best things this job taught you was how to put on a kind smile and keep it, despite your circumstance. The lesson applied to a lot of areas in your life but lately you hadn’t needed to force a smile when it was necessary. You were getting better at genuinely smiling without the need to remind yourself.

There was no genuine smile, however, when you walked out of the kitchen, hand poised on your notepad, and saw the person sitting at your table. In fact, there was probably the opposite of a smile.

The blue figure was resting his jaw on his hand, eyes half lidded like he was falling asleep. Still wearing that same hoodie as before but unlike in the café, where he wore enough to cover every trace of bone save his head, here he just wore basketball shorts and slippers. Did he not feel the cold at all? It was still freezing outside.

You feel your heart beat get a little faster but you bite back your grimace. You had hoped not to see the skeleton again but apparently fate was a cruel mistress today. If he had been in anyone else’s section, you could have just stayed hidden in the kitchen, but no, he was your one and only table right now. You couldn’t avoid him or use business as a distraction.

For the first time in months, you pull up your smile forcefully, knowing it didn’t quite reach your eyes, and shuffle your way over to the table.

Normally at this point, you would pull out your little cue card that you kept with you at all times. It said rather simply _“Hi, My name is _____ and I’ll be your server. My apologies for not talking!”_ but you knew it wasn’t necessary this time. The one benefit of this conversation was that Sans knew ASL. You weren’t going to have to go through the whole shtick of explaining and apologizing with him.

You’d rather have had to go through the shtick, honestly.

Stuffing your notepad into the apron of your uniform, you walk up to the table. Was it better to just act like you didn’t hear him and the child in the café? You had tried to convince yourself over the last several days that the conversation must not have been about you but it was still hard to actually believe that lie you were repeating. If you admit to hearing it, you were admitting to ease dropping and that wasn’t a good thing either. He knew you were listening anyway… he had turned directly to you with those final words. It wasn’t like it was a secret but you still felt slightly bad about it.

Best to just pretend like you didn’t hear anything at all and act normal.

 **“Hi Sans, didn’t expect to see you here!”** You sign when you reach the table, drawing his attention up to you and giving your most valiant attempt to seem pleasant and cheerful.

He didn’t seem surprised to see you.

“Heh, you work here, ____? Small world.” He chuckled but why didn’t he seem surprised? You certainly had been when you spotted him across the restaurant.

“ **Yep, we opened back up today after the storms. I’ll be your server for the day,”** You answer, pushing the odd suspicious feeling away as you. It was just a coincidence.

Sans nodded casually, leaning back into his seat and turning to look at you. His face was actually calm, even with the perpetual smile that never seemed to leave his face. “Cool. So, wanna hear a joke?”

A joke? Um… “ **Sure?** ”Not exactly what you were expecting but you were going to handle this conversation as politely as possible.

“What did the waitress say to the horse?” Sans asked, his smile growing a little as you think over it, finally giving up with a little shrug. “I can't take your order. That's not my stable.”

There was a dramatic pause after the end of the joke, him seeming to wait for you to say something, but it took you a minute to actually accept what just happened. A waitress joke. Wow.

Your fake smile melds into a real one and you choke back a giggle that was fighting to escape your mouth. No. That joke was horrible. Don’t you dare laugh.

And you were laughing.

Your laugh was even harder since you tried to previously contain it. The sound was scratchy, your throat tired from disuse over the past several days, but you were laughing. It was /such/ a bad joke. Maybe that was the point though.

Sans seemed pleased with your reaction, his eyes brighter than they were a minute ago. When you finally seemed to catch your breath, he wave his hand a little. “I bet you couldn’t _wait_ to hear my puns again, right?”

You breath in a little, finally able to sign again after the fit of laughter, and nod. “ **I’ve heard a lot of jokes over my time here but that was probably the worst out there. Congratulations,”** you tease back, shaking your head. It was terrible and it broke the tension you were feeling like a knife. You weren’t so worried about him anymore. Whatever had happened in the café hadn’t been about you.

“Aw, throw me a bone here, I’m tryin’,” He huffed, still smiling widely as he looked over you.

“ **Nope, can’t do that. It was terrible. Perfectly terrible,”** you answer immediately before pulling out your notebook **. “But despite that, punny guy, I’ve still got a job to do, you know. Can I get you something to drink?”**

Sans paused thoughtfully, reaching up a boney skeletal hand to rub at the side of his cheekbone. “Got any ketchup in the back?”

What an odd question. You look perplexed as you nod. What did that have to do with his dri- “I’ll take a glass of that. Or, if you prefer, just bring out a bottle.”

What? What?! Your face scrunches together a little as your mouth opens a little. No words come out but you weren’t sure how to respond. He drank… ketchup? You would have to see it to believe it. Was this a monster thing? Who drinks ketchup? You didn’t even like condiments in general; you couldn’t even imagine drinking one.

 **“I’ll… see what I can do?”** You sign out hesitantly as Sans seems to enjoy your confused expression, a smirk on his face. **“I’ll… be right back with that.”**

You turn on your heels and weave your way through the empty tables back to the kitchen. The moment you were out of sight, your smile fades to one of now undisguised confusion. Ketchup?

The restaurant was big on their burgers so there was plenty of bottles back here to serve with a customer when they ordered that. Pouring ketchup in a glass would just make you look stupid to your fellow workers, however. Impulsively and almost panicked, you grab a bottle of ketchup from one of the large storing fridges and head right back out with it.

If this was some sort of prank, you had no idea how it was going to turn out. Monsters were weird.

“ **Alright, here’s one bottle of ketchup. Go crazy,”** You sign when you set the bottle on the table.

Sans stared at it for half a second longer than you thought he would. “Damn, wasn’t expecting it to be that easy. That’s some good customer service right there,” He muttered, sly grin flashed at you as you moved to grab the bottle, cap flipping open.

He was actually going to drink it.

Oh god, you were scared to watch.

Just as you feared, the skeleton seemed to tilt the bottle back, teeth opening just enough to squeeze a long red stream directly into his mouth. You were torn between feeling distinct disgust as you try to hide your horror and intense curiosity because he was just, well, a skeleton. Where the fuck had that ketchup gone?

Maybe you didn’t want to know.

You raise a hand to cover your mouth, hiding the way it had fallen open during action. A good fourth of the bottle was gone by the time he pulled away, flipping the lid closed with a little pop.

You were still a bit frozen in shock when he turned to you and he began to cackle loudly, head tipped back. Laughing at you. Laughing at your reaction.

“ _Tibia_ honest, kid, your expression is the best I’ve seen in ages,” Sans drawled, eyes flickering away as he scratched at the back of his head.

 **“You just drank ketchup,”** you sign and if you were talking, you were sure you would have sputtered the words out. In this situation, the only sign of how incredulous you were was the slight shake of your hands and your wide eyed look.

“I _condiment_ you on your astute observation, pal. I did just drink ketchup.” God, the teasing wasn’t going to end. You had to put a stop to it right now or the puns were going to get out of control.

Shaking your head, you find it better to roll your eyes than to egg him on even more. **“Alright, wise guy. You got me. Have you decided what you wanted to order yet?”**

You motion briefly to the menu that had been left with him by the employee that seated him in the first place. It was open out in front of him so you assumed he had at least looked over it briefly. “ **Do you have any question or anything?”**

Sans glanced down, shutting the menu with a snap of his hand and handing it out towards you. “Nah. I’ll just get a burger and some fries. Everything on the burger.”

Easy enough. You take the menu from him and tuck it into the crook of your arm so you could continue to sign. **“Alright, can do. It shouldn’t be too long before I can get that out to you, there isn’t much happening tonight as you can tell.”** You wave a hand around to emphasize your point, the only other people currently in the little restaurant being a couple in the far corner chatting over coffee after their meal.

“Yah, it is pretty dead today and not just cause I’m here,” He drawled as you turn, hiding your smile. You wave off his comment as you head back to the kitchen to place the order for Sans.

Just as promised, it didn’t take long for the order to go through. The chef just started working on it immediately and with nothing else to do, it was finished in about seven minutes, burger, fries and all. Making one meal was super, kitchens in restaurants just have to dictate ordering and such. If there are a ton of other table, you have to focus on the ones that ordered first and were waiting the longest. With no one else to wait for, you were out of the kitchen in under ten minutes with a refill bottle of ketchup and the dinner plate in each hand.

Sliding the plate down in front of him and grabbing for the nearly empty ketchup bottle in front of you (how could he even drink that much in ten minutes?) you smile. **“Here yah go. Nice and hot. The burgers here are one of my favorite things.”**

Sans nodded, looking down at the food and then back up to you, for once not saying anything. He seemed to be kind of lost in thought. It was about this time that you would walk away and leave him to eat. That was what you were trained to do. **“Let me know if you need anything!”** You sign cheerfully before turning away.

You were stopped when something smooth and cold caught onto your hand. Glancing down in confusion, you realize rather quickly it was his own hand, the bones pressing into your palm as he stopped you from walking away. Confusion crossed your face and your eyes dart up to meet his expression curiously.

“Wanna sit with me? You don’t seem to be doin’ much right now.” There was something about the offer, the way Sans was looking at you, that made you hesitate. It wasn’t flirtatious, definitely not. There were people who came in here occasionally who would flirt with you, girls and guy alike, and you were fine with it. It was part of the whole waitress atmosphere. Usually it was before they found out you didn’t talk but you had learned after a while just when to recognize someone who was flirting with you at your tables. You weren’t getting that feeling from him.

You weren’t really sure _what_ you were getting, honestly. It seemed like… he wasn’t even requesting. It felt like a thinly veiled demand in the form of a question.

Whatever it was you were feeling, the last thing you were going to do was sit with him because of it. Sure, it was nice to joke with him, but this was the same sort of thing that you were getting from the café. Like you had done something wrong and you weren’t sure what.

It was why you once again shake your head politely **. “Thank but I can’t. My boss doesn’t like me sitting around idly. She has the tendency to say that if you aren’t working, you aren’t useful. I’ll probably go back and help the kitchen staff or wipe down the tables in the sections.”** Your smile was still real but it felt a bit more forced than it had been when you both were just telling jokes and having fun. It was like the entire air around you had gotten supercharged and was much tenser then before.

After all, you had a right to say no to him. Whatever was going on, you weren’t forced to sit through it. You were not typically a shy person when it came to this sort of thing. You might not be good at interacting with other people, but even with the fear of disappointing others always on crawling up your back, you had been doing better lately about being your own person. Something had changed over the past two years that had helped you get better at it, almost since the monsters started coming out. You were getting better at being able to handle yourself.

 **“Again, let me know if you need anything,”** You sign, though he seems to ignore you in favor of looking down at his food. His smile was nearly completely gone. What had happened in those ten minutes you had been away to ruin his mood?

\------------------------------

You didn’t even notice as you walk away again that Sans’s eyes had risen to follow after you, sockets empty where there once was pricks of light. His hands darted down to pull out a phone as you began to clean, expression more concentrated than anything else. His thumb flew across the keypad before sending out one text, leaving his food completely untouched.

*I definitely found it.

* _You are absolutely sure._

*Yah, no mistaking it anymore. It’s definitely them.

*Do whatever you need to then. Get it back.

Sans seemed to nod for a brief moment, glancing once more up to where you were, having begun to actually hum rather low under your breath. You didn’t even seem to notice you were doing it. A large scowl crossed his expression and he pulled out his wallet, leaving the money on the table and the food untouched as he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter after this is going to be intense, fair warning.  
> 


	5. Misconceptions and Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp... here it is. Am I happy with it, sorta. Am I posting it anyway? Yes.  
> Trigger warnings: VIOLENCE

It was later than expected when you began to close up. A full day wasn’t exactly what you signed up for when you got back to work but apparently a few people were still stuck dealing with issues from the storm and had to call in absent. Which meant, by the time the kitchen finally closed and the open sign in the window was shut off, you had worked back to back shifts from eight a.m. to ten p.m.

It had been gotten busier an evening rolled around, more people streaming in then you would have expected. From the stories your tables told you, you pieced together that almost everyone here was out because of the same issue with broken water pipes and gas lines. The snow storm had come a lot earlier than expected this year, winter kicking off with a bang, and no one was ready quite yet. You hardly expect this kind of stuff at the end of October, right?

You rub your hands on your pants, tired and a bit sore but otherwise content. All that was left was for you and the few people left to clean off the tables, check the registers, and head home. Your agenda for today: a bad movie and a cup of hot tea. Seems like a good way to relax when your feet were aching from being on them constantly and your back was protesting the constant bending over and moving about.

“You free to close up, ____?” A question as fired as you ran a towel over one of the few final tables. Your boss was standing there, bundled up nice and warm, looking pleadingly at you. A husband and three year old were waiting for her at home, you knew, and assistant manager wasn’t here to lock up like normal.

You give her a little nod, signing a small “ **Sure** ” in her direction. You’d worked here for two year, thankfully she knew at least the basics of yes, no, and what not.. The look of relief on her face made you smile, filled with determination, as you shoo her off towards the door. It’s not as if you had too much to do anyway at home anyway. Tiberius wasn’t going to complain if you got back thirty minutes later than normal.

Chuckling slightly to the thought of the cat actually being affronted at you, you finish off the last of the tables and wave goodbye as everyone else in the restaurant slowly trickles out.

Soon enough, it was empty completely, the light dimmed to the point where everyone looking in would realize that the place had shut down, even if they saw you tidying up through the table.

Everyone had pitched in enough before they left that you didn’t have to do much more. It only took another five minutes or so to empty the register, lock up all remaining money in the safe, and check that the back doors were locked. All the while you hummed to yourself, calm and surprisingly happy with a day full of work behind you. There was a huge satisfaction with actually having done something productive today, unlike the last few days doing absolutely nothing.

You still breathe out a sigh of relief when you gather your things and lock the front doors behind you, stepping out into the dark streets that had dropped several degrees in temperature since you first arrived here this morning.

It always got colder at night, the wind wiping through the tall buildings like funnels, forcing the air to become colder. Some streets were worse than others depending on the day. There were times when you would step out after work and immediately regret it, shivering immediately with the power of the air hitting your body and face. Today it seemed you were slightly sheltered for now, the wind blowing to the north and against the building you were currently being protected by.

Even if it was late, there were no stars out, the weather not allowing for you to spot any of the twinkling lights that normally flickered through the indigo and navy expanse. It was too bad… stars seemed to be far prettier the colder it got. Maybe something with the atmosphere.

There were few people actually out and about this late at night. The street lights had already flickered on, however, so you felt a bit safer walking when you knew you were illuminated by the yellow glow. Normally you weren’t out this late. Your shifts typically end in the afternoon and you’d be home long before it even hit dusk. Nights were… difficult sometimes for you to handle.

It’s not that you were afraid of the dark; you weren’t. It’s more that with the dark came the reminder that you were alone. You didn’t have anyone to call out to or comfort you when you were afraid or desperate. You didn’t have anyone to reassure you that you’d make it to the morning. When it’s light, you find it easier to remind yourself to smile and to breathe and to live. This is why you loved the stars so much, why you loved the starlight moments that people gave you sometimes. Both of these were reminders that you still had something bright to live for.

So while you weren’t afraid of the dark, it still wasn’t much of a comfort to have to walk back home in it.

Your feet sound quietly on the ground, crunching in the thin patches of snow that still remained from the storms. It wouldn’t clear out for days, if you had a guess.

The soft hum of cars in the distance occupies the otherwise silent world, the busier streets still alive. Bars were opening back up today, you figured, so the night life would be back on in those parts of the city. You preferred a good book to good music and dancing but the appeal was still there. It was just sad to go alone to one of those. Clubs and parties were meant for friends together, in your opinion.

You rub your arms slowly, gloved hands trying to bring them a bit of warmth with the friction they caused. It was a long walk back, you knew, but having a car in a city like this was inconvenient as best.

Parking was terrible, for one. It cost you more to park your car for a year than it would be to rent a high scale apartment in a luxurious building. It was insane. Two: it was hard to even find a spot to park. When you first considered saving up for a car, you focused on parking spaces for a week. 99.9% of the time, all the lots were booked. You didn’t want to be late to anything because you didn’t have a place to park your god damn car. Three: walking was good for you. It’s not that you needed the exercise because you didn’t really, you were thin enough as it is, but having something to wake yourself up in the morning and having a specific necessary time that you had to leave to get to work helped you keep track of your life. Having a schedule and keeping to it made you a bit more responsible on the days that you felt yourself being eaten away.

After your first month here, you memorized almost all the convenient bus schedules anyway so it wasn’t like you were without transportation if you really needed it.

Head dipping down, you blow warmly into the scarf around your neck, steam evaporating up to heat your face. The lights from the street lamps reflected off the soft white puffs of air, illuminating the area in front of your face with a cloud every time you breathed out.

You couldn’t deny that it was peaceful out here, even if you would rather not be out at all.

Actually… no. Not peaceful. It was oddly quiet.

For a block or so, you walked in silence, mistaking the empty world with little noise for a peaceful one but as time rolled by, it slowly began to dawn upon you that it was much… stiller than it should be. Usually there were cats in the alleyways and the occasional one or two cars traveling down the street. You knew that at times like this, you could even dimly hear the sound of tv’s running in the apartments you passed and yet, there was none of that either. Other than the street lamps, none of the buildings on your left or across the street were lit in the slightest from any window.

And what was that sudden clench in your stomach for, exactly?

Where were the people that had been walking the streets not ten minutes ago? There had been only a few but there had certainly been some. Where had they gone?

Your brow furrows a little in confusion as you continue to walk, making sure to actual look around you ever now and again rather than stray back to your thoughts. You never really worried anyone out there in the dark but better safe than sorry, right?

But hey, even being attentive couldn’t stop you from being surprised when you rounded the corner and slammed body first into someone standing there.

A small noise of surprise left your body as you stumbled back, falling on your ass as your feet slipped on the cold walkway. _Oh fuck!_ You curse as you try to catch yourself, hand shooting out to catch yourself on the ground behind you as gravity took control.

You wince as your wrist catches most of your weight, protesting painfully as you thump against the ground. Your ass was also complaining but that hurt a lot less.

“Falling for me already? I mean, I’m flattered, pal, but still, probably not a good time,” A familiar voice said, lacking any humor as you turn your face up to the person you ran into. From the glow of the lights shine on a blue hoodie, basketball shorts, and slippers, revealing the person before you even though his face wasn’t actually visible. Much like the first time you saw one another, the shadows of his hood kept his expressions hidden.

Sans.

You stutter slightly, mouth open a little. Even before working yourself back up off the ground, you begin to apologize. “ **I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,”** You are quick to motion, wrist screaming out at you for moving it so fast so soon. Damn, that hurt.

“Guess not. You were pretty eager to get somewhere,” He answered out, not offering you a hand up or anything. Just standing there over you, watching from underneath his hood. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t this. You stand up slowly, using your good hand to help yourself up.

Snow coated your butt and legs now and you move to brush them off as best as you can before your body heat melted it into your clothing.

 **“Just eager to get home,”** You sign, a bit more slowly so as not to make your wrist any worse than it already was. **“You’re out pretty late yourself?”**

It wasn’t as if you forgot that he had just disappeared entirely from the restaurant earlier. One moment you were cleaning table and the next he was gone like a puff of smoke. You must have missed him leaving somehow, though you weren’t sure when he did it or how. He would have had to pass you to get to the front doors. His food had been untouched, though the ketchup bottle was still basically empty. At least he had paid before he left, the money you found on the table able to cover the food. No tip though… which had upset you briefly. You hadn’t let it get to you too much, however, as you went back to work.

Now, however, you let a bit of your confusion and frustration bubble up. Most people had the decency to at least leave a tip for a waitress. It was a restaurant after all, that was the polite thing to do.

He didn’t seem to be bothered, even now, with you, however. You didn’t want to be rude but his behavior was bordering on bipolar. One minute he was cracking jokes and the next he was seeming suspicious, rude, and overall rather cold. Much like he was right now, in fact.

“Decided to go for a walk. Figured maybe I might find something interesting if I did since I’m new to the city,” He answered back, hands still in his pockets, blocking the pathway in front of you that you normally would use to get back home.

This was getting weird. Would it be seen as super rude to just walk around him and continue on your way with a small goodbye?

Probably.

You bite the inside of your lip and nod a little, though you didn’t actually understand. **“It’s late, though. It’ll be hard to find anything interesting around here this late at night.”**

He seemed to shrug, head raising a little to look at you and you could finally see the bottom half of his face in the light.

The smile he was giving sent ice through your veins.

“Not as hard as you might think. I’m looking at something pretty interesting right now, after all.” His voice dropped an octave and not in the good, sexy sort of way that people might describe a bedroom voice. Oh no. This was one of judgement and anger and disgust.

You physically take a step back, mouth parting a little as you slowly raise your hands in front of you, both for protection and so that you could speak more clearly.

There were goosebumps on your arms, the hairs at the back of your neck were standing up, and every time you breathed, another shot of adrenaline seemed to be plunge right into your brain.

 **“Sans, are you okay?”** You question hesitantly because while you didn’t know him well enough to actually consider a friend, you hadn’t expected this either. This sudden intense fear.

“Me? Yah, I’m fine. Definitely fine. You on the other hand…” You draw in a sharp breath as his head finally rises enough for you to his face, shadows not enough to hide his eyes – those empty hallow eyes.

_“Y o u  s e e m  t o  b e  a s k i n g  f o r  a  b a d  t i m e.”_

Time to run now? Time to run. You should have gone off thirty seconds ago when you first saw that smile but now was better than never.

You turn sharply to your right as you break out in a full out death sprint, knowing that if you wanted to get back home, you couldn’t go in the opposite direction but you knew these streets pretty well. You’d lap back around. Your only real thought then was to put distance between yourself and that horrible hatefilled expression.

Your feet now slam against the side walk, hands pumping by your sides and wind wipping through your hair like a jet turbine. Your sides ached, your chest burned, and you throat seemed to catch. If anytime was the time to cry out, it would be right now. Find someone to help you, _get away, get away, get away._ You couldn’t speak though. You physically couldn’t get words out of your lips as you blink back the panic. Your mind was numb, your heart was beating too fast, and the world around you had narrowed to the point where all you could see was the street in front of you.

You didn’t look back either. If you saw him there coming after you, you would only shut down more.

So you run.

It didn’t seem like it even mattered, however. While you kept your footing miraculously on the slippery ground, you couldn’t get away. One turn of a corner and there he was again, standing in front of you, hands in his pockets, blocking your way out.

“You know, I didn’t want to believe it at first,” He said casually as you slide to a stop, skidding a little on the ground as you pant, hands out in front of you still to try to stop him from getting closer.

“You seemed nice. When I went looking for who had taken pieces of Frisk’s SOUL, I was expecting some huge creep,” He continued on, not even looking at you while he spoke. Your eye darted around you, trying to find a way out of this. You could go start running behind you but how far would you get? Walls pressed to either side of you, blocking off a route in that direction. You’d turned down a fucking alleyway. There was nowhere to go but backwards.

“I mean, not many people would actually want to hurt a kid, right? Especially not one like Frisk. Yet, there you were, clear as day, pieces of their soul shining out right there.” He motioned to your chest like you knew what he was talking about and you just stared at him in fear. None of what he was saying made any sense but your heart was beating so hard in your ears that if he wasn’t speaking so clearly, it would have drowned out the words entirely.

Sans shook his head once, still not looking at you. “Hell, even the kid was confused. Said something felt weird about it when I took them to the café. Didn’t know what to make of you even if they agreed that it was their soul.” He continued on and you slide a step back a tep as subtly as possible, trying not to make it obvious that you were planning to run back again. Listen to him ramble about whatever the fuck he was talking about and then get out of here when you saw a chance. You didn’t want to die, after all, and the way he was talking… it gave you the worse sense of foreboding. Murderous even.

“But I came again today and it was even brighter, right there in front of me. Can’t be denied anymore,” He actually laughed, the sound making your eye widen slight and your hand tremble in front of you. “You know, if you’re going to take somethin’ that doesn’t belong to you, you might want to do a better job at hiding it.”

You barely let him finish that sentence before you turn to run again. It might not have worked the first time but you didn’t have any other options. You didn’t want to die because this monster was insane.

But you could barely move. It felt like your limbs were being pulled back, like you were pushing against something hard and could only struggle to make it move an inch or two.

Your eyes dart down to your body, fear increasing when you saw it glowing with a faint aura of blue.

No, no, no. You were stuck. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t get away. God, not like this. You couldn’t deny that you thought about your death before but you never pegged it like this. Your breathing came a bit sharper and you felt tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

“It’s not nice to turn away when someone’s talking to you,” Sans spoke behind you, voice surprisingly sounding a bit strained. “And I can’t just let you walk away, not before getting what you took. So why not just make it easy for me and hand it over, k, pal?”

Slowly you turn to look at him, eyes still wide with fear. You couldn’t scream, your hands were too heavy to bother with signing, but boy did you feel like crying. His hood was back, left eye glowing with a fire that you could only guess was what people on the news called magic. Monsters had magic, unlike humans who had forgotten it a long time ago. According to some people, their magic was the reason they had been locked up underground. Maybe it was a good thing they had been under there too. You had thought these people were peaceful but here you were, watching a nightmare come to life with no way to fight back.

“Please,” You finally whisper so softly your own ears barely catch it at all. Your voice was cracking from severe stress and disuse, struggling to just make that one word out as you breathe. You had no choice. You had to talk… it was between this and dying. Even if your mind was yelling at you now too, you had to try.

San’s cold smile turned confused for a second before he was laughing again. “See, I knew the whole not talking thing was an act. Doing it for sympathy, right? So no one recognizes what sort of person you actually are, I'm guessing?” He huffed a little, shaking his head. “They say _we_ are the monsters.”

His hand moved out of his pocket and for the first time, you notice how, just like his eye, it too was glowing with a blue fire. “There is an easy way and a painful way. Either give back the pieces of the SOUL you stole or I’m going to have to take it myself.” You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks now as you struggle against your bonds. What SOUL?! What was he asking for? You didn’t take anything. You’d never taken anything from anyone.

He grunted a little as you continued to try to move, confusion crossing his face as you managed to move little by little under the hold of his magic. A bead of sweat crossed his forehead as the glow of his hand increased, forcing you to stay still.

“Painful way it is. Don’t say I didn’t offer you a chance but no one is allowed to hurt my friends,” He muttered as his other hand came up, motioning towards you.

You weren’t expecting the stab of pain so instantaneously nor how badly it actually felt. This was you dying, right? You were coming apart at the seams.

You almost expected when you looked down to see something piece your chest, a bullet, a knife, whatever, but no. There was nothing like that.

All there was the soft red glow pulled from right where your heart was located. The glowing increased exponential with the pain and you had to shut your eyes as you physically cry out now, unable to stop yourself, hands reaching to your chest.

Seconds ticked burning agony by as slowly something escaped from your body, bright red and exuding light onto your skin and the area around you.

It hurt less once it was over but it still felt like someone was branding you with a hot iron. Your eyes drifted up to what had escaped, mouth parted, tears having left trails down your cheeks and were still dripping to the cold ground below.

What was before you was… odd. It didn’t resemble anything at first as you looked at it, confusing you for a while. There were small red shards of something floating in front of you, like chips off of something much bigger. The shards were individually tied together, wrapped in silver translucent string that connected them all. The outline that the string formed… was in the shape of a small heart.

“You know, we haven’t even gotten to the pain part yet. I was just going to take back the pieces before we got to all of that,” Sans spoke, causing your trance to break as you glanced up at him. There was something different about his expression then what it had been before but you were having trouble analyzing it now. Without the distraction of looking at the thing that had come from your chest, the pain was back again.

His hand moves once more in front of you, tugging the shards towards him. Without your control, you take a stuttered step forward, breath hitching as your throat breaks trying to scream.

God, it all hurt.

“What… what are you doing?” He asked, watching you stumble along with the shards getting closer to him.

“What did you even try to do to these?” Sans asked again, the fragmented piece of the Soul now hovering in from of him with you only a few inches away. The glow from the soul was bright enough you could see all of his expression now without any issues. “What’s all this stuff?” His hands raise to pull at one of the silver cords that held the shards together in that shape.

He didn’t even try to be gentle with it, pulling at it to the point where the cord easily snapped with a surprisingly loud crack.

All of a sudden, worse than the pain of the thing emerging from your chest, your brain fired off its own personal lightning bolt through your body. You couldn’t even fight it, it just took every muscle you had and gave it a seizer, causing you to collapse where you stood. Your body wasn’t able to support itself after that, not in a long shot. Another ‘bullet wound’ sort of pain but without the blood loss to knock you unconscious.

God, you wanted to die.

_Just let me die!_

_“Hey,”_ You heard a ringing voice in your ear, mind spinning as you struggle so hard to keep breathing. It was torture. The sick fuck was torturing you. If he wanted you dead, he should have just done it a long time ago.

 _“You can stop the act now, pal. You’ve lost,”_ the voice said, a little more cautious as you curl in on yourself, the cold ground no longer bothering you. The pain was almost becoming numbing and you breathe again a bit more shallowly. Maybe blood loss wasn’t even necessary. It would be heaven to just pass out right now.

Something touches your shoulder and you don’t fight it off, eyes closing. Or maybe he’d just kill you now. You’d ‘ _lost_ ’ right? Whatever game this was, whatever he thought he was playing, you lost and you were okay with accepting defeat if it meant it stopped this pain.

“ _Kid_?” The hand was turning you over, trying to get you out of that fettle position you had curled up into to protect yourself.

“ _Hey, kid, look at me,”_ More words, more orders. Maybe if you listened… god would it stop?

“Let it end… please,” You whisper again, eyes half-lidded to gaze at the skeleton who was hovering closer than you thought he was. Crouched down, directly in front of you, face so close to yours that you could almost feel his breath ghost over it.

Sans’s expression wasn’t what you expected, however. You thought it would be gloating, triumphant, the face of a killer who was going to rub it in as their victim slipped away. Instead, it seemed… panicked. Worried even.

“Kid, where is _your_ SOUL? Where’d yah put it?” He asked, the little pinpricks of light back in his eyes as they darted over you, trying to find something. By the look on his face, you had to guess he didn't find what he was looking for.

No, it was too much. All of this was too much. You didn’t have the ability to answer anymore, it all was beginning to grow numb. You thanked whatever god there was as you felt the pain begin to disappear, your head too cloudy to really process more than that that the world was beginning to fade. Slowly your gaze drifts to the thing still floating above Sans, the warm red light that was much dimmer than it had been when it first came out of you.

Shame something so beautiful, even while broken, would begin to lose its light.

Sans seems to turn, follow your gaze to the pieces of the SOUL floating above you both. As you finally, mercifully, begin to drift, you even think about laughing at the curse that flew from his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And.... cut. That's a wrap on the violence for a bit. A small bit, admittedly, but still.


	6. Leftover Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's so many theories of what happens when you die. None of them are really true compared to what you experienced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, here we go. Finally fixed the stupid piece of shit that was the errors on this chapter. As promised, THANK you for those who posted amazing songs. The comments disappeared when I deleted the "note to the readers" but I saved every single one! There's a few that I am still listening to out of sheer love.  
> Music in this chapter: [[The Seal Lullaby]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rznEyE4Dtoo)  
> Triggers in this chapter: Panic attacks and well, death.

When people describe death, it’s in a lot of different ways, usually by those who have never experienced it before. It’s always funny that those who deem themselves worthy of describing death are those that are very much alive.

Some say it’s like falling, no end, just an endless plummet with the sense that you won’t hit the ground. Some say it’s like swimming, no need to breathe, no need to move, just existing inches below the water as you allow yourself to drift. Some said death was like walking into the light, bright and shining and warm, like a familiar embrace of someone who once loved you and was welcoming you home. Death could be like you were on fire, singed and burning as flames lick up your skin or maybe like ice, chilling with frost and freezing every part of your body till it refuses to feel ever again.

If it was like falling, perhaps you would have been content with the endless drop. It would be something, at the very least, to think about.

If it was like swimming, you think you would have been happy, able to drift in a sea of nothing but water and quiet. You had always loved the stillness of a moment captured in time, where all you could hear was your heart in your ears and the thoughts running through your brain.

If it was like coming home you would have been surprised. Who was there to greet you in that warm light and why did you not know of them while living? Who had you touched enough while alive that they would be willing to welcome you into their warmth? No one, you were sure, had been affected by you enough that you were allowed that welcome back.

If it was fire, on the other hand, you would have laughed. How classic would it be that the emptiness in your life would be met with the burn of another. While you didn’t consider yourself a bad person, going out of your way to help people and others whenever you could, if you came into death to be greeted by fire, you would have wish those coming after you good luck.

If it was with ice, you would have found it poignant. Died in the cold and the wet, on the ground all alone. Would it not be suited that your death be cold and numbing as well, lacking the end that even you felt it probably deserved? It was coming full circle, however, and you would have at least taken a moment to appreciate the irony.

But it was not like falling or swimming. It was not like coming home and being loved nor like fire and ice. In fact, if you could choose, all of those would probably be better than what you woke to when the pain finally drifted away entirely.

The nothingness was worse than all of the choices that people once believed to be true. Your eyes flicker open to the black, no light, no pain, no… anything. It was like there was nothing at all.

There was nothing to rest your head on where you lay back, eyes staring above you into the emptiness. No ceiling, no roof, no sky. To your left, to your right, no buildings, no walls, no people.

Sitting up slowly, you turn around, staring at the expanse that led to nothing in every direction. There wasn’t water to float in, there wasn’t peace. You thought death would come with peace, at the least. You figured you’d stop feeling these pesky feelings that bubbled up when you were alive, the anxiety, the panic, the loneliness, the hurt, but no, they all were still there just under the surface, screaming at you one at a time as your eyes dart around the black.

Your eyes dart down to your body, hands having clutched your chest in your panic. You weren’t in pain anymore, at least there was that. Whatever that monster had done to you, you were fine now, at least physically. Your chest didn’t hurt anymore, your brain wasn’t having an aneurysm. You could _breathe_ so perhaps there was a small comfort there.

It didn’t stop you from wanting to scream in this hell like expanse of nothing, nothing, nothing. So dark. The farther you looked around, the worse it got. Darker yet darker still.

Your body seemed to hold visibility, oddly enough. Not like it was glowing but like the darkness wasn’t the same as what you were thinking. It wasn’t the absence of light but more like everything you could see from here to infinity was just black.

You could have cried in that moment from the seeping emptiness that filled your body with despair. Instead you choose to tuck your face into your knees, whimpering a little as you hug yourself.

Death was hardly what you expected… and you not okay with that. You knew you were going to break here if you followed down this path but you couldn’t seem to find a way to stop yourself. You can’t die after death though… so what would even be left of you? A broken form in the empty void?

No, you couldn’t break yet… not yet. You were here how long? Five minutes? Ten? Your internal body clock wasn’t registering any sort of time with no signal or indicator to go by here.

It was empty and you keenly were aware of it.

So you reached for the one thing that you were able to find to make the darkness a little more alive. Scrunched up in a ball, eyes closed tight as you felt tears slide onto the ruff material of your pants, you sang.

 _“Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,_ _  
_ _And black are the waters that sparkled so green."_

Your voice choke out the words, shuddering and breaking as you try to sound out the notes. It was one of the few songs you could remember being sung to you when you were small. Not by a mother, you knew that for certain. Perhaps a grandmother… or someone who once cared for you.

 _“The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us,_ _  
_ _At rest in the hollows that rustle between.”_

You connected the song with the only memories you had that were really good from back then. Hands, soft and kind, picking you up when you cried, rocking you gently.

_“Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow,”_

Your heart felt like it was lost somewhere in the darkness and you couldn’t seem to get it back. Singing had always been what had forced your mind back to your body when you were drifting but you couldn’t fight death with a small little song. All you could do was fight for calm.

_“Oh weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!”_

It might not have been what you wanted to happen with your life but at least you weren’t just gone entirely. Sometimes people say that death is just an end, with nothing beyond. Your entire life just disappeared. You weren’t there just yet… so you had something to smile at.

_“The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,”_

Breathing was getting easier as the song fades. You realize bit by bit that your tears had stopped falling somewhere along the way, cheeks still wet but eyes drying. You weren’t okay… but you were better than when you started.

_"Asleep in the arms of the slow swinging seas."_

You weren’t alright… but maybe you’d be okay someday. No need to cry now, you were going to make it through this.

_"Asleep in the arms of the slow swinging seas."_

Your song dies away and the music in your head does too, leaving it surprisingly clear and anxiety free. It made it easier for you to finally look around you more calmly.

It was this second time that you notice the small objects surrounding you. Maybe they were not there first time you looked though you felt like you would have noticed. Maybe they appeared when your eyes were shut tight, as you sang. All that mattered now was that you _did_ notice little bits of yellow around your leg, half curled up under your weight.

Golden flowers.

The small patch underneath you had been there when you woke up, you realized after a moment. They had been what was under you head. It was the sole source of color and warmth in this voice.

Something about their existence helped you calm down a little.

You were dealing with your own death, you realized with a laugh as you brushed a hand over one of the flower petals gentle. What an odd little thing to have to do.

You had thought about dying before when the darkness around you got pointedly bad. Never about killing yourself but about what it might be like if you faded away entirely. No one would miss the small girl at the apartment by the window. She had a smile that easily forgettable, though kind. She went to work, went to the store, and went home to repeat the cycle. It was a monotonous life with no real substance. Who would miss the little girl who made no impact on the world?

You had thought about what they would do with your things, who they would be given to. The only will you had for anyone who cared was for someone to take care of Tiberius. The rest of your things, you apartment, your life, meant little to anyone. No family that cared, no good friends to pick up your things. Those that you knew were friends at base level at best. Someone you could chat with and smile with but would never go get drinks with or invite over for dinner. They were people that would look sad for a week or so if they were told you died, maybe post a small thing on your Facebook wall, and then would go back to their lives, rarely ever thinking of you again.

It was a sad existence, right? Not really anything worth living anyway.

You sigh a little, propping your head up by a hand, resting your elbow on your knees. You needed to stop thinking about ‘what ifs’. You were dead… this is what death was. All of those thing would be happening and there was no way to get back from that.

Weirdly enough, you don’t regret living either. You were happy with your life, even if it was a bit meaningless. You took what joy you could whenever you could. While you couldn’t think of too many instances of pure memories, happy memories, ones that actually made you smile, there were little moments that you were glad you lived for.

You weren’t quite at peace but you weren’t going to stew in regret either, no matter how many things you wish had been different.

Death was death and there was no going back to it.

Your left hand plays with the flowers underneath you as you think.

What would you have done differently anyway? Probably not said hello to Sans in the first place, that’s for sure. You think briefly what might have happened if you hadn’t gone and sung at the café but you don’t actually regret that. You needed that time to fix up the bits and pieces of yourself that were falling apart inside. The café the day after however, you definitely would not have tried to be friends. You had just been so excited to have someone to talk to who knew what you were saying.

You gripe a little bitterly, plucking one of the flowers you were playing with to raise to your nose. It smelled like honeysuckle and rosemary. Odd, but beautiful.

Even deeper than that hello, however, you knew you could have tried harder. Put in more effort into relationships that mattered, tried to be more social. Things had begun to fall apart of you sometime, years ago, and you’d just never been able to pick up the pieces of yourself that had scattered everywhere. There was a long period of time where you just felt that everything you did was on repeat, that you were living every moment and every interaction with people again and again. You lost part of yourself each time it happened, making the world a bit darker.

When you finally managed to crawl out of that pattern, by miracle or chance, you were left with little left of yourself. Just enough to get as far away as possible from what might have once been your home but now felt like a prison. You’d taken to this city, finding a job, getting Tiberius, gluing the shattered remains of yourself back together and hoping that you still resembled a working human being. Maybe you didn’t try hard enough, though. There were opportunities to be friends with people that you turned down politely, moments where you could have been spontaneous and instead chose to take the safe route. You didn’t want to risk losing anymore of anything you cared about.

So you played it safe and you got the safe result… which really, was barely a result anymore.

Tucking the flower behind your ear, you lay back down on the bed of flowers.

Too bad ghosts weren’t a thing that happened. If it was, you’d go haunt literally everyone you knew, encouraging them not to make your mistakes. Try to get them to do something with their lives.

Weren’t ghosts supposed to have unfinished business, though? You didn’t quite qualify. Unfinished business would have been something on earth that had happened when you had died and well, clearly you weren’t doing anything important then. Your issue was after death business.

You actually laugh a little, reaching up to rub at your eyes. So many things you might have done. So many times you tried to protect yourself from hurt that probably wasn’t going to come anyway. You were too careful after all that pain, too cautious. If only you had been a bit more determined to be happy.

That last thought seemed to fade away a bit more slowly than the others in your stream of consciousness. If only you had been more determined. Determined… determined. You almost feel like you could sleep here but the thought still echoes in your mind. Wishes and hopes with that word circling like a pesky bug that won’t leave you alone.

Something surprisingly bright seemed to illuminate beyond your eyelids as you drift, causing you to open your eyes just a crack. Where had this brightness come from? You were sure it had been dark when you had closed your eye.

You shift a little in the flower bed, eyes widening when you finally see the source. Scrambling to your feet faster than you could say “Death really sucks ass”, you stare in shock at the glowing lights of two small signs a few feet away.

For how small they were, they seemed to piece the darkness of this place wonderfully, like a personal flashlight through the void. Stepping forward, you stumble off the flower bed, feet landing on solid ground even if there was nothing specifically underneath them. It only took you a few steps to reach the little signs, hovering out in front of you.

The closeness seemed to make your body thrum and you hadn’t realized up until that point that you couldn’t hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You were dead so you supposed it made sense not to have a heartbeat… but the lack of noise was rather startling now that you noticed it.

The two signs lay out before you, each one labeled differently.

“ _ **Continue**_ ” or “ _ **Reset**_ ”

The words seem to glow brighter when your hand hover near each and you frown a little.

What did it mean?

Were you suppose to choose?

It hit you in that moment that perhaps this was not the death as you once thought. You weren’t stuck here in this void… but rather it was purgatory. A world in between what lay beyond. There were people that believed in that too, right?

Was this the choice you had to make?

Your frown deepens a little as you scratch at the side of your face.

No, that wasn’t quite it. It was the oddest sense but you knew that wasn’t it just that. Somehow, in the back of your mind, information you never had personally gained began to rise to the surface.

Continue where you left off in the world you just left or Reset it back to the beginning. Back to the very start of your journey.

You weren’t choosing to go back or continue forward into the next life or whatever the case may be. There were just two options out, back to Earth.

A sudden surge of hope fills your body and you instantly have the urge to slam one of the panels, it didn’t even matter which one. _Just let me back. Let me go back. Give me another chance here._

_Let me try again._

But no, your decision mattered, enough that you still had a big choice to make. Which was the better option here? You could continue from wherever you left off, probably right before you died or something similar, or you could go back to wherever this Reset dropped you. You weren’t really sure what that actually meant.

It could mean a new chance at everything or it could push you back to those hellish days that you never wanted to live through again. Not enough information here.

But did you really want to continue where you left off? Sans might still be there, ready with his misinformation to kill you once more and you weren’t sure your sanity could take being killed so slowly this time.

What were you going to do?

Did you risk going through that hell you once knew all over again or chance that you couldn’t stop Sans if given a second chance?

With slow hesitation you reach out, hand pressing down on of the panels as the glow intensified to a magnitude you hardly thought possible of light.

Your entire world filled with sound, a rushing echoing noise that bubbled through your brain and filled your senses in station. A glance behind you showed the flowers disappearing in the brightness, your own body seeming to dissolve in the power.

And just like that, you were gone, hoping you didn’t come to regret the choice you made.


	7. That... is an Excellent Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet. It was over 6.5k words before I trimmed it down. It has a lot of information and talking however so it makes sense it's longer..  
> Also, I loved in game when you could fight with a cooking pan. It was my favorite weapon... thus the results you see in the chapter below.

Reality slammed into you like a fucking boulder, making you gasp so loudly that the noise echoed in your own ear for a second. Wide eyes stared forward, not focused on anything as the last moment of your memories hit you.

Holy fuck, you had just died. Right? Right?!

Where the fuck were you?

Your eyes dart around you, hand out as you clutch the side of your head. Pain levels? 0. Mental issue level? A good 6 but steadily slowing down along with your heartbeat.

You were in the restaurant? How were you in the restaurant? You had just been in the alleyway with Sans, hadn’t you? He had pulled something red and shining from your chest and killed you. You had literally felt your body give up on that cold hard ground and now here you were, breathing in gulps of cool air like they were the best thing you had ever felt.

You had the weirdest sense of de-ja-vu that was possible, your head aching with the hint of memories. A song? A lullaby. An empty room maybe? It had been dark. Thinking too hard about it only made the pain increase, causing you to wince as you push yourself away from the front door.

You watch as the fading form of your boss disappears down the street, peering at her through the glass doors. You had just died and now you were back here, watching her disappear. The ghost of a memory, of a smile, traces your thoughts. You had smiled at her and shooed her off to go see her children. Seeing her eagerness to get back to her family had filled you with determination to clean up alone.

One step at a time, you walk yourself through the false memories. You had cleaned up the shop, shut everything down, and moved to walk home. You’d gotten maybe half way before Sans showed up, acting freaky and talking about a stolen SOUL or whatever that was. You had run to get away when he started seeming threatening, gotten caught, and was stuck with his magic. You’d talked normally for the first time in months, had accusations thrown at you, and something ripped from your chest that caused your entire body to be on fire. He’d torn at something on said thing, making your entire body scream as everything went numb. The last thing you remember seeing with your eyes was that SOUL dimming… and maybe even dissolving away entirely above you.

Then there were the confusing memories of that room that made your head spin to think about.

Had any of that actually happened, though? You were back in the restaurant like nothing had happened at all, maybe you were just… hallucinating?

You weren’t crazy, you were pretty certain. Like, a good 92% certain.

You had died… right?

Shaking your head, you rub at your temples and step away from the door. You weren’t really certain what was happening but you did know you weren’t going to leave the restaurant, at least not for a while. If those memories had any credibility at all, going home was a bad idea.

With a small instant thought, you actually step back towards the door and lock it in front of you. You’d rather sleep in a booth or something than go out there where that monster was.

No way. No fucking way were you willing to experience that again.

Even if you don’t remember much from when you had died, you were here now and you weren’t letting that go to waste. Fierce determination fills your chest, harsher and more certain than you’d ever felt before. You weren’t letting that happen again. You’d fight him this time if you had to. No more being afraid.

Course, you still weren’t going out there. No need to invite anything bad to happen. The tables weren’t as clean as you remember them being when you left last time around but you give less of a fuck this time. Instead you head to the back of the restaurant to grab your stuff. You’d probably just camp out in the break room after you lock every possible door there was.He knew where you worked but you had the advantage of locking yourself deep within the building and not coming out till morning. Whatever grudge he had against you, you didn’t think he would be willing to hurt you during the day. You’d stay here till morning, leave before anyone got here, and then call in sick. That would give you some more time at home to figure out what to do.

Maybe even call the police.

Okay no, that was horribly stupid. What kind of idiot were you for even considering that? What would you even say?

“Ah yes, hello. I was killed by this skeleton and brought back to life thirty minutes before it happened? It’s a miracle. Arrest him.” You speak out loud, the sarcasm deep within your voice as it scratches its way out of your throat. You didn’t realize for a good second afterward that you had actually physically spoke to yourself willingly for the first time in a decade or so. Out loud. Without any prompting and without singing.

Surprisingly it hadn’t felt like someone else had stolen your voice either. Whenever you spoke normally, everything about the words seemed wrong. Foreign, like it was someone else’s tongue spitting them out from your lips, someone else’s words rather than your own. It had made you sick, nauseous usually, hearing that voice. It hadn’t always been that way but you promptly shut up a child when the feelings started and you never really started again. ASL had been all you’d ever used after that unless necessary.

But you’d just… talked. Maybe it was the trauma, but it had felt right. It had felt like you.

You weren’t going to test your luck out by trying it again but still. You hold a hand to your chest and sigh quietly.

All the same, the police weren’t an option. Unless the skeleton did something while you were alive with witnesses, they weren’t going to be any help. You’d have to do this on your own.

Seconds ticked by as you shut everything in the restaurant down. There were no blankets or pillows, nothing soft to really sleep on, so your night was going to be pretty terrible… but you’d be safe.

For once the darkness wasn’t as much of a bother. Comparably it wasn’t as dark as that place so it didn’t cause as much panic inducing fear. The shadows cast from the windows didn’t even make you flinch like they might have normally.

Well, all except one particular shadow you were not ready to see right then. A particular shadowed outline of a skeleton outside the restaurant windows was traced on the wall across from you.

Why was he… no. NO!

You all but sprint back to the kitchen, ready to find something you could use a weapon. Anything. Just something that would bash in a skull if he got close to you. You refused to have that happen again. Maybe you could talk your way out it, sure, but you would be talking with a large metal skillet firmly in hand (the knives had already been locked down already for the evening, this was the best weapon you had).

Why was he even here?! He had been blocks away when you had left the shop but there he was with a distinct flash of blue outside the window, looking left and right frantically. Trying to find you, you'd wager.

Well fuck him and all he stood for. You had a frying pan. Plus he’d have to get through several locked door both in front and back.

You violently shove down the feeling of fear, not letting yourself feel it as prominently as before. You wanted to live. You might not have anything to live for right now but you wanted to live, god damn it all, and you weren’t letting it go down that easily this time.

Seconds ticked by slowly and you counted them on your breath, one at a time. The longer time went by, the more you figured he hadn’t seen you through the windows. He had probably just continued to move along the streets.

Or, you know, maybe not.

You were proven wrong with that little theory with the frantic yell of “_____! Where the fuck are you?” sounded from the main seating area of the restaurant. How did he even get in here? The doors were locked. This time you couldn’t stop the hint of fear, gulping down a little harder as you grip your pan tightly. You were going all Rapunzel up on this shit right here. From where you hid behind the door of the kitchen, shrouded in the deep shadows, you could make out the sound of running footsteps throughout the main seating area.

Where had his calm and angry demeanor gone? This hadn’t happened last time or he would have found you out cleaning tables…

Something haunted you about that thought… that somehow he knew where you would have been had you not remembered what had happened earlier.

“______, get out here. Stop fucking around, where are you?” He called out angrily and you bit the inside of your lip to keep back any noise you might have made. It was like those games you played as a kid when your parents didn’t want to hear from you anymore. If you made a peep, you’d be in trouble so just stand perfectly still and be quiet. Don’t even breathe too loudly because that might cause attention to be turned your way.

“No, No, No… FUCK!” His voice escalated loudly and suddenly there was the sound of tales crashing into other tables, things being tossed into walls. _Stay quiet, stay quiet, stay qu-_

Something suddenly crashed into the closed kitchen door as well, slamming it back right into your head with a hard and solid crack. A grunt of pain slips out without your permission as the door edge jams into your skull, leaving you seeing stars that should not be there. Maybe hiding behind the door wasn’t your best idea… and wow, there were fuzzy little white things at the edges of your sight. Cool, never seen those before.

“_____?” Sans seemed to call as you push your way out from behind the door. Just in time to for the skeleton to come running through it, eyes wide with concern, sweat beading on the top of his skull, weird skull eyebrows furrowed.

Just because your head hurt and you were rather instantly dizzy does not mean you forgot what he did, nor how to swing that pan you were holding with all your might right as his stupid face. And just because it doesn’t hit anything the first time, Sans seeming to disappear for a second before reappearing a foot away, doesn’t mean you didn’t try again.

Swing. Miss. Swing. Miss. Swing…

Why was your pan sliding out of your hands?

You wobble slightly on your feet as the pan skitters across the floor, looking over at the skeleton who had a hand out towards you. Had he knocked it from your hands?

“S-Stay away from m-me,” You demand, voice as firm as you can get. It sounded pretty damn firm to you. Okay, so it was actually super quiet and your voice broke on the way, but the intention for firmness was definitely there.

Your hand reaches up to touch your head, noticing something wet, and you pull your fingertips back to look at them for a moment in amazement. Funny, they were red. Red was a pretty cool color, you decided in that moment. If you had a favorite color, it would definitely be in the top two or three of those.

Your mind drifted a little before you reign it back. This was much worse than it had been in the alleyway. That had been intense pain but nothing that had stopped your brain from focusing. Right now with this giant lump on your skull, you were having issues focusing on the murderer directly in front of you.

Where had your pan gone?

You glance towards it and rather calmly, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, you walk over and grab it again. He didn’t even seem to protest. You actually hadn’t looked at him since he ran in here, he was awfully quiet for all that talk he’d been going on about last time you met.

Your eyes dart over to him once you have the pan safe and secure in your hand again.

He looked… relieved. Why did he looked relieved?

There was light in his eyes again, wide and bright as he breathed panting in front of you, holding onto his kneecaps as he leaned over. His eyes never left you but he seemed much less put together then he did all the other times you had seen him. Your head injury was telling you that it was funny how he looked so different and well, you kind of had to agree. It was a bit funny.

_Focus on the issue at hand._

Holding the pan out in front of you like a sword, your other hand in front of your chest, you start signing. No need to talk if not necessary since he was looking at you **. “What are you doing here? How did you get in here?”**

He just seemed to shake his head, the smile on his face growing a little the more he watched you. The little beads of sweat glistened off his skull in the dim light that was pouring through the kitchen door.

 **“Why are you here? You need to leave.”** You couldn’t exactly go and tell him what happened earlier either. Same sort of thing with the police, he’d think you were crazy.

Sans finally broke his own silence with the largest relieved laughter you’d ever heard. Highly inappropriate for the moment too. It caused you to jump a little, brandishing your weapon a bit more clearly as you slide back away from him.

“Jesus, kid, you have no idea how good it is to see you breathing,” He said, voice deep as he laughed, running a hand over his skull to wipe off the sweat that was there. “I mean, I thought you were gone for good.”

Wait, he remembered? The bastard fucking /remembered/ what he did to you? Your eyes scrunch together in anger and you practically growl, the pan in front of you slashing angrily in his direction. You were nowhere close to hitting him of course but he still slides away.

“Whoa, whoa, hey. Calm down, look, I’m not going to hurt yah, pal.” He raised both hands up in front of him rather suddenly, like you were a injured animal. The description was surprisingly accurate.

He had every right to treat you carefully after what he did.

 **“You remember what happened?”** You sign slowly, making sure you were both on the same page. The anger began to boil up more with each passing second.

He gives a tiny little nod, hands still up carefully in front of you. No threat, no threat, no threat. His signals were pretty damn obvious, even as he took a step forward. “I’m surprised you remember. Only known one person to ever come back from something like that and remember to tell about it.” His voice was soft, calming, and remorseful. You didn’t want him to be nice. You were angry at him, horribly terribly angry. This niceness was some sort of trick, it had to be.

“What happened to you, what I did… I kind of fucked up,” He said, hands still out as he took a small step towards you. You hold out your pan even more in front of you, eyes narrowed. A clear ‘ _Keep the Fuck Away From Me’_ sign, no need for asl.

“I can’t apologize properly while you are wielding that thing like a sword at me. If you give me a chance, I’ll take a **_stab_ ** at explaining…” He hesitated, glancing at the thing and then you again. He didn’t seem so much concerned for the pan as he was for how you were using it. Worried about you, where did the sudden change of heart come from? You didn’t like it.

But you wanted to know what was going on. None of this made sense anymore. He had talked about things you didn’t quite understand back in that alleyway as he killed you and you were insufferably curious.

But in this situation, curiosity actually might kill the cat and there was no satisfaction that would bring it back. You weren’t risking getting another second chance.

Your eyes narrow and you motion towards eh door with your pan. **“Go take a seat. In there. Far away from me.”** Your signing was harshly cut and chopping, grinding your teeth together with frustration. You were being stupid to allow this… you could still remember the searing pain like liquid fire through every vein and capillary. You could still remember but it felt like it had happened to someone else. Maybe that was why you were more willing to hear him out.

Sans breathed out a sigh and nodded, making sure to walk so that you could see his face and hands the entire time as he entered the dining area, you following at a far distance with your pan.

Jesus, he had practically destroyed the area. It looked like the place had been ransacked. Tables were upside-down, broken, crashed into one another. There was one braced against the kitchen door and you realized a bit sluggishly that it must have been what had slammed the door into your head.

How had Sans destroyed all of this so fast?

Magic? Magic. Jesus, power was given to heavily to those who don’t deserve it.

He took a seat at one of the far booths, leaning out of it as he propped himself up on his knees. Sans had the conscience to look guilty as he glanced around at the utter mess he made but he seemed to prioritize focusing on you above fixing his pandemonium. Hehe… _pan_ demonium, oh god, something was off with your brain if you were making puns too.

You grab a chair from one of the toppled tables and drag it upright, seating yourself several yards away from him with your makeshift weapon placed in your lap.

 **“If you’re going to explain, you should start. If I call the cops now, I at least have proof you did something,”** You motion, hands out in front of you. Idle threats, of course. You probably couldn’t get to a phone before he got to you, but all you had was threats and your stupid cast iron skillet. Threats, the skillet, and memories of your life fading away.

“Right,” He paused on the word, not knowing where to begin. It was clear he wasn’t used to this kind of thing and apologizing definitely wasn’t his strong suit, you were sure. He was sucking at it pretty damn hard as it was.

“So uh, back there, what happened… no _bones_ about it, I kinda fucked up,” His pun barely made him laugh and you didn’t make so much as a chuckle. It wasn’t funny right now and you were tired. Puns were meant for different people, different times, between friends who joked about a skeleton eating ketchup from a bottle, not between a murderer and the person they killed.

Something warm drips down the side of your neck and you ignore it in favor of giving Sans a serious face, motioning for him to continue.

His eyes closed and he reached a boney hand up to rub over his eye sockets.

“Let me start at the beginning. It’s kinda a long story, one I don’t really have the right to tell all of, but I’ll go explain what I can,” His eyes were closed, a weary tiredness in his voice that sounded like he’d lived a million years and was finally facing someone who was judging him of his sin.

“The kid you met earlier… their name’s Frisk. They are pretty important to all of us monsters, part of our family. They got us out of the underground, brought us all a lot of hope.” He smiled just slightly and even through his exhaustion, you could see he really was fond of that kid.

“A long as I’ve known them, they had bits of their SOUL missing. I mean, since the beginning, way way back. At first it was a lot, they only had a fragment or two. Over…time, I guess, they regained a lot of the missing bits till they were able to break us out of there.” Out of Mt. Ebott. You had heard the kid was the one to break the barrier by some strange means or magic but the story itself had so many wide variations that you never really knew which held some truth and what was complete bullshit.

“Even with the little cracks and chips missing, their soul was strong enough to get us out.” You didn’t want to interrupt him as he talked, even as questions started to pop up in your mind. You never were one to believe in an actual soul but ever since monsters showed up, there’s been whisper that humans had a physical SOUL somewhere in them that monsters could manipulate or control. It was another reason some humans feared them.

“When they got out of however, they felt like those piece still missing weren’t completely gone. So we started to track them down.” Sans seemed to struggle with how to keep going from this part, causing you to actually prompt him forward.

 **“So that’s how you ended up here in this city?”** You sign, trying to get him to continue as he hesitated in front of you. Clearly this next bit wasn’t as easy to explain or perhaps he was avoiding telling you something you didn’t want to hear. Both options were possible.

“Yeah, that’s the main reason. We hopped from place to place till Frisk sensed we were getting closer to the pieces. They didn’t necessarily need them but who would want their soul tibia missing some important chunks, right? I’d want to feel _hole_ too if it was me. ” He chuckled under his breath, reaching up to rub at the back of his spine where his neck would be, the sound of rubbing bone making you wince just a little.

“And then I found you.” Right, here is the part where you come in. You lean forward more in your chair towards him. “I thought you had been the one to take them. I still don’t know really what’s going on, _tibia_ honest.” Clearly he wasn’t used to talking this much but was doing it for your sake, to try to explain what’s going on. Your hand moved to touch your chest, where the SOUL had been pulled from.

“See, what’s inside you right now is Frisk’s soul. No doubt about in my mind, I wouldn’t make a mistake like that. Even the kid agreed with me with a bit of hesitation.” A flashback to his monologue where he mentioned that the kid had felt something weird about it all. Sans seemed to notice you remembering something, nodding a little along with you. “They mentioned something was off, yeah, but still, they confirmed what I had already thought.”

“Now, I’m not going to _fibula_ , here, pal, I was pretty ready to take what was stolen by force. I thought you were just some kind of freak who found a way to hurt the people I care about.” You shiver a little, hand hovering over the pan. It made you feel a bit more secure. While his words weren’t threat this time, just a statement, you could still hear the echo of ‘a bad time’ in your ears.

Sans shook his head, hand out as if he wanted to touch you, your shoulder or knee, to give a comfort when you probably looked so scared, but he pulled back his hand as just that little moment made you flinch. Instead, he kept talking, a bit incredulously. “But I took the SOUL out without allowing for a confrontation, breaking every rule of monster battles there is. I figured that if I drew it out that way, you’d have no choice to let the pieces go… but I wasn’t expecting the SOUL to struggle against me every second.”

His voice seemed a bit more animated as he bent over, hands clasped in front of him, the lights in his eyes illuminating a little more. “See, SOULs always go back to where they originally belong if they aren’t trapped or contained. I figured if I took Frisk’s soul out, it would just head on back to them like it’s supposed to. Instead it just fought tooth and claw to get back to you, making it nearly impossible to control with my magic and let me tell yah, kiddo, you don’t _bone_ with me when it comes to magic. It was like it never even belonged to the kiddo in the first place.”

Something warm drops from your hair to your shoulder, seeping into your shirt, but what he was saying was too interesting to pay attention to it. Somewhere along the way the story had become desensitizing, like it really had happened to someone else. Your head was surprisingly fuzzy but you had questions. Enough questions that you were going to interrupt.

Your hands raise shakily, having to take a more accurate focus to sign as you wanted to **. “I’ve never taken anything from a kid, especially not pieces of their soul. You have to believe me.”** You went by the profession of ‘ _do no harm and hope no harm is done to you’_. While this often didn’t work, you still never liked the idea of repaying violence for violence. It never solved anything.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” He muttered, leaning back into the cushions of the booth as he glanced up at the ceiling. In the last few minutes, Sans had talked more than all of the other interactions you have had with him combined. He seemed almost worn out by the interaction or maybe it was just all the events of the day getting to him like it was to you as well.

“I seriously didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I mean, I did when I thought you were a piece of scum, I’m not going to deny that, but it _patella_ the truth, I’m thinking I was wrong.”

The apology, while it didn’t make up for all the wrongs that had been done, was genuinely good to hear. It was a good start, a step forward, and you let go of you pan completely to sign **. “I’m not forgiving you just like that, just so you know. You put me through a lot of crap the last several days, I am not forgiving you."** The rational part of you was getting smaller, bleeding away slowly out of your head as things got fuzzy. Muted fear, muted hate, muted terror, all just simmering under the surface. It was getting harder to connect his face with the person that had torn your SOUL apart. 

He nodded sullenly, eyes darting from the ceiling to the ground. Shame. That was full blown shame on his face. Good, it meant he wasn’t as much of a heartless monster as you might have thought.

 **“Question is, how am I even alive? You killed me. I remember every bit of it and trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget. What made me come back here?”** You question, leaning forward now a bit more interested. **“All I remember was those last few moments, a lot of darkness, and golden flower before I came back to myself as I locked up behind my boss.”**

You motion briefly with a hand towards the door as if that was explanation enough, finally taking the time to grimace at the mess of the dining sections. They definitely would think someone came and broke in last night. Where you both sat now was out of view of the cameras but there would be evidence of a hooded figure throwing stuff around in the security tapes. Great.

“Golden flowers? Like the one in your hair?” He asked curiously, motioning to the one behind your face, causing you to reach up in surprise. You remember tucking a flower behind your ear from the golden patch in that void but it shouldn’t have come back with you, right?

Your fingers brush your scalp, looking for the flower he was talking but rather than find it, you were left with a surprisingly lot of pain when your hand touches that spot from the slamming door.

Your hands came away wetter than when they started. Oh, so that’s what had been dropping onto your shoulder slowly over the last few minutes. You grimace at the blood on your fingertips, wiping it away on your jean.

“Here, uh, let me,” Sans murmured, standing to as if to help you find the flower. Instinctively you move to grab the pan again. You were supposed to be afraid of him, you were afraid of him, but it was having becoming a surfacing thought. You deep down, some part of you as screaming for him to back away from you, to leave, go away, and yet, all you did was sway a little in your seat as you look at him. When he was over in that chair and you were over here, it felt safe but allowing him closer was a bit more of a risk. A risk you were having issues processing. 

It wasn’t you that flinched, however, but him when he saw your scared look. There was a guilt hidden there that went beyond an apology. He was hiding something, shoving something down that he didn't want you to see, some emotion that you weren't able to read. Sure, he still wanted to help, but that look was like he was wanting to run out the door and not come back. Like the sight of you scared him, It wasn't your hands shaking, but his, as he stepped forward. So maybe that smile on his face as was fake as the rest of him.

It seems he hadn’t realized you were injured, though, as his caution turned to emphasized concern when he was finally close enough to see the matted blood in your hair and the stains on your shoulders. Swearing under his breath, you watch as he leans down to inspect the gash. “When did you do this? No wonder you’ve been swaying like a drunken sailor for the last ten minutes.” His boney hands hovered an inch or so above your skull, not touching the wound but trying to see it as best as possible.

 **“I was hiding behind the kitchen door… the table slammed the door into my head when you went ballistic,”** You find yourself giggling, the moment a bit inappropriate for it. Stop, stop. Stop laughing. You couldn't help it, blinking as your body yells at you. God, this was bad. You weren't able to think clearly anymore. Your mind had always been the one thing you could trust to be able to be sound but here you were, thinking of a pun and unable to stop it from escaping. **“You made a skele-ton of mess, you know.”**

Something careful touched the side of your head, far enough from the wound that it didn’t hurt. Hair was brushed away from your face as his skull leaned closer to the side of your head, dim white eye specks trying to size up the wound. His face was so odd, you found yourself thinking absentmindedly. How could a skull be so expressive?

“Hey… _______, look, Do you have someone to call to pick you up? This seems pretty bad." More guilt, more hidden expressions, all of which making you frown a little unhappily. Your head had been getting a bit lighter over the past several minutes, making it hard to focus, but you could still tell when he was trying to hide something.

When had you stopped being afraid of him anyway? He was a lot closer than he should be for what he had done to you.

“ **M’fine. I just need some sleep,”** You sign slowly and while the excuse was just that, an excuse, it was actually surprisingly true. You’d been to hell and back today and sleep was all too elusive.

Sans shifted, moving to stand in front of you now and your head tilted back to see him a bit more properly. He was a little shorter than you when standing but sitting, he seemed to tower over you like a skyscraper.

“Look, I know you don’t trust me. I get that, but that wound is pretty bad. Can I at least take you to someone to look at it before you want nothing to do with me ever again?” Sans was trying to be polite and ask for what he wanted. Good for him, it was an improvement over the last time he asked for something at this restaurant. Congratulations, gold star for effort.

You give a tiny shrug, however, to his question. **“Would it be fast? I’m really tired, Sans. I just want the day to be over.”**

“You’d be patched up before you know it. I _don’t have the heart_ to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have,” Sans offered you a bony hand to stand up and you glance at the pan in your lap with a frown.

His gaze follows yours and surprisingly, he chuckles. “You should keep it if it makes you feel safer around me. It’s kinda cute how attached you are though…” He almost didn’t seem to realize what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth.

If you had been looking at his face in that exact moment, you might even have seen the sudden tinge of blue across his cheekbones. Instead you were looking at the pan and nodding a little. It hadn’t been very useful but it did make you feel a bit safer around him.

You don't want to touch him but your hand reaches out anyway to take his. _Stop, think clearly..._ but no, you pulled yourself to your feet unsteadily. **“Where are we going? How long will it take to get there?”** Why were you going with him? You shouldn't go anywhere with him. _Leave me alone._ He hadn’t let go of your hand either and you couldn't help the disgusted feeling even with the numb fuzziness of your head. You were forced to tuck the pan under your elbow to sign with the other one.

“To see a friend… and it shouldn’t take long. Just, uh, remember to keep your eyes closed, okay kid?” The warning seemed a bit strange, not making much sense as he moved to wrap his other hand around your waist, holding you tighter than expected.

And then, when the feeling of falling began, darkness plunging out of nowhere, the only thing on your mind at all was that warning. You weren't going to open them for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickenssss. So you all now know a little bit more, but are probably still curious as to what exactly is going on with the Reader's SOUL. Let me give you a hint, it's not what you originally think it is.  
> Which chapter might you want to see from San's perspective? Vote over here: http://goo.gl/57xmmb 


	8. What Comes After Nothing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shock wears out and the numbness fades as the reader goes through hell to find themselves again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! You. Yes You. Want to see a Sans perspective on one of the chapters? Vote here:http://goo.gl/57xmmb
> 
> This chapter is a bit heavy but I wanted to explain a lot more of what I hinted to in the last chapter with the reader being in shock at the time.  
> It gets a bit dark, so be warned there.

Darkness upon more darkness, swallowing you whole, dragging you down. Eternal hell, laughter, a cackle of something wicked looming just out of sight. Something evil, something made of death itself, slithered around you. Clawed hands captured your ankles, pulling you back as you stumble.

Demons in the shadows, out to eat your soul.

You cry out in the darkness, your soul dragged from your body by indigo waves of malicious intent.

“You don’t deserve to live,” They laughed loudly, a voice all to familiar, deep, empty, and haunting.

“Come on, scream for us. We like hearing you scream,” The demons laugh a little harder, something wet and cold brushed across your shoulder.

You can’t stop yourself either because it hurts. It hurts like you were dying again, the laughter increasing in your ears.

The darkness shifted, revealing what was eating at you. Skeletal hands, skeletal bodies, their eyes open and staring as they laugh.

They pull you down and you scream.

They hold you down and laughter echoes through the dark.

They swallow you in cold and death and you could feel nothing at all any longer.

\--------------------------

_“Oh my… Sans, what did you do to her?” A woman’s voice ask through the dark._

_“A lot, Tori. Just.... look after her, alright?”_

_More static filled the air but you couldn’t feel the energy to care as something warm surrounds you._

\--------------------------

You felt like you were floating. A person that wasn’t connected to a body anymore. No pain, no pressure, just emptiness. It was so much better than the laughter in so many ways but there was still such a dissatisfaction with it too. It wasn’t as if it was dark or light anymore. There wasn’t pain or pleasure, there wasn’t happiness or sadness. You weren’t afraid or confident or knowledgeable anymore.

You were just… there, not really you anymore.

You were just an empty thought, a passive observer to things that had already happened and as the nothingness began to take shape, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were nothing, afterall, there was no reason to care.

You blink a little as the images in the nothing form into people, scattering around you. Gray smoke of shifting reality formed walls, ceilings, tables, chairs.

“Don’t just stand there, girl. Get back work!” A voice growled from the grumbling form that had finally begun to settle. The face you saw felt familiar as he towered above a smaller child but you couldn’t bring up a name when you had no real memories.

The child seemed to flinch at the command but nodded, short cropped hair bobbing around their face as they skitter away from the man’s reach. Fear. There was fear on their young face and they stood just far enough away that the man wouldn’t be able to reach out and grab them even if he was to lunge.

They still listened to the man as they moved to the grab a broom and began to sweep. The room when you shifted your gaze around, was large, beds lining every wall, concrete floors cold and walls bare.

The longer you watched, the more you concentrated, the more the scene began to dissolve back into smoke and before you could grab at anything of substance lost here, gray took over the nothing again.

\--------------------------

_“My child, you need to eat… or at least drink this,” Something cold was held to your face, a glass, a warm hand tilting your head back a little. Something equally as cold ran down your throat._

_You don’t protest but you don’t move either._

\--------------------------

When the smoke took context again, it was to a happier scene. A woman, wispy green dress rotating around her as she swung back and forth on a dual swing set, small child in her lap. It was a sunny day, the clouds puffy and white, perfect for pointing at and imagining shapes in. The young child giggled, tiny legs swinging back and forth where they hung off the older woman’s legs, like their tiny movements were really the thing that was making the swing set move back and forth.

The woman’s soft hum fills you with a warmth you weren’t expecting, something about the tune all too familiar. The young child seemed to recognize it too, leaning back into the woman as their eyes closed.

The smile on the little ones face was more peaceful than you could imagine anyone ever feeling and you wanted, rather suddenly to be in the spot on the woman’s lap, listening to the love embedded in that song.

So perhaps you could feel something in this world, it was just difficult.

The woman’s mouth opened to sing but the words she would speak never appeared. Her lips just moved and the sound died away as the structure of this created world fell back to smoke.

\--------------------------

 

_“It’s been three days with no change. When are you going to tell me what happened?” The soft voice spoke somewhere nearby, concern so thick in their voice that it seemed they were almost afraid._

_There was only silence for a long time after the question but no answer was ever given._

 

\--------------------------

The happy scenes were less happy when you realized how empty they made you feel. You were a shell of someone, discarded and left behind, but with just enough substance that the happy moments that this world created felt much less happy.

Perhaps the smoke was a bit masochistic.

You began to recognize the face of a child that changed in age fairly often, remaining younger than that first image that you ever saw with the man.

The woman showed up fairly often too and you wished you knew her name. She seemed so happy that you were almost jealous of her love.

It took a while for the smoke to change sometimes, lingering on scenes like the woman sitting over a bed, running her hand over slowly over the child’s hair as they slept soundly, curled up under a starry blanket, stuffed animal shoved under their chin as they hug it. There again was a hymn being sung that you couldn’t hear more than the tune, fading off as the door to the bedroom swung open and the woman disappeared out of it, reaching for a hand that was held out lovingly towards her.

There was a man too, though less frequently. Those scenes weren’t without their own brand of softness, just far less often. Some with a child dragging the man out of bed, tugging him to a kitchen to make breakfast or watch a sunrise. A flash of a scene that lasted only shortly, the child standing on their tip toes to kiss the man on his scruffy cheek.

One scene made your chest ache with something you couldn’t describe, the man standing with the child’s legs wrapped around his neck, pointing up at the starry night above them out, tracing patterns of constellations that he seemed to know so easily.

And you felt, when the scene faded away, so very very alone.

\--------------------------

_“I’m not sure going in there is a good idea, my child… the lady isn’t well” A word of caution seemed to echo in your ears, far far away. The same that you have heard off and on throughout the last several days._

_There was a shift on the bed, a weight falling on it as a tiny hand took a hold of yours._

_“All of this is my fault,” The small voice said, unhappy as they held your hand. “If I hadn’t told Sans what I felt, they’d be okay. ”_

_“Dear, you can’t blame yourself for this…” The voice echoed from farther away, the doorway specifically._

_“We didn’t even know them, Mom, and look what everyone did just to help me. I didn’t want this…” There was a soft hiccup and something wet falls on your hand that held theirs._

_“I know, young one, I know.”_

\--------------------------

You wander the nothing without any real purpose or destination. Watching, floating. Looking for something in this world that likely wasn’t there. Your heart wasn’t here but your mind might be here, somewhere.

The smoke showed you things too, every now and again. Less frequently and a lot less happy as time went by. Things that meant little without context but still you felt the pain behind them.

More images of the child as they grew, a void in their own life forming when the face of that stern and angry looking man returned. The man and woman from before with the loving looks was gone, replaced by cold orders and emptiness. It hurt to watch but perhaps that meant you were finding yourself more each time the smoke formed. You were beginning to feel the hurt again.

You didn’t really like that, to be honest. Not feeling anything was so much easier.

The scenes just turned darker and darker as they appeared and you decided you didn’t like it at all. They always ended the same way, however, with the child gritting their teeth and trucking forward, leaving behind a speck of red in their wake that disappeared along with the last of the smoke. The poor child had been through a lot, you realized. How they managed to keep moving, even smiling, surprised you, even if they had turned quiet after a time, resorting to other methods of communication.

Even with this new effort to speak, they were still tormented daily.

And then after one scene of smoke, it all just… stopped.

There was nothing left, no images shown.

It was quiet and that was finally okay. Whatever you had lost here, you were fine with losing as long as you didn’t have to remember all of these things again.

They hurt enough experiencing the first time.

 

\--------------------------

_“I’m sorry,” the small voice whispered beside you, tiny and upset. You hadn’t noticed anyone approach but then again, you hadn’t really been in your body to focus on anything the last week, body staring at a wall with your arms wrapped around yourself typically._

_“Mom says to leave you alone until you feel better but I… I wanted you to know.” The voice said, leaning against you. “Because of me, you lost your determination. If I hadn’t asked Sans to help me find my SOUL, he wouldn’t have gone to you.” The child seemed so smart, so intelligent for being so small. Their voice was wavering as they struggled._

_“He only meant well… Sans wouldn’t hurt anyone if he didn’t think he needed to… but still, stay determined, okay? It’s what I used to do when I got like this.”_

_Something touched your hand briefly and for the first time in a long time, you turn to look at the person next to you, watching the child blink away tears._

\--------------------------

The first time you really pay attention to where you are, it’s to notice a monster tucking a blanket around your legs and humming quietly. The humming seems so familiar, so distinctly memorable that you are pulled nearly all the way out of your own mind to look at the source.

Perhaps it was your shifting that caught their attention as they startled up, face turning towards you in surprise and then sudden, instant relief.

“Oh my! You’re awake!” They exclaim happily, hand clapping together as you examine them. Everything about you felt heavy, sluggish, like you were coming back for air.

The monster in front of you was larger, bigger than a lot that you had ever seen before. Her fur was white and she looked a bit like a goat, small horns peeking out of her head and a set of glasses resting on the bridge of muzzle. The voice was familiar too but it took you a minute to realize it’s belonged to the person you remember taking care of you in and out of the last several days. The owner of the soft and kind voice.

Her paws brush over your forehead, touch light as it trails down the side of your face. “We were so worried. You haven’t been responding for a week now…” She murmured, doting on you as she tugs the blanket farther up your body. You had been propped up against a bunch of pillows at some point in time, occupying an bed in an otherwise sparsely decorated room.

A week, though? You’d been here a week?

You blink slowly as you reach a head up to touch the side of your head, the fingers brushing over where the wound had been all that time ago. There didn’t seem to be any pain and there wasn’t any bandages… in fact, you couldn’t even feel a lump. Had it just disappeared?

“Your head is fine now, my dear. I healed you when you first arrived but you just… you seemed to go into a shock of some sort. Nothing I could do would snap you out of it.” Her voice was sad, weary even, and you had to wonder if she had been worried about you this entire time.

How long had you felt lost in your own body? What had even helped you come back?

It’s not the first time that something like this, a trauma or some kind of experience had sent you reeling but it had been a long time. Since you were extremely young, since your family…

You remember a little of how the last several days felt. Like you were lost, forced into your own mind where you couldn’t feel anything, but you had shoved down your history for long enough that relieving the scenes had made you much more vulnerable than expected, even if a lot of them blurred together.

And you had imposed all of that numbness on this poor monster. You felt terrible.

It had been shock that had gotten you to that state in the first place but you couldn’t just blame in on the head trauma. The events of dying, coming back, and then seeing your killer again had done a number on you that couldn’t even be expressed. It made everything in your life feel like it was being torn apart and yet, you had been too out of it to do anything but sit and talk with him like some kind of idiot.

Looking back on it, there had been moments there when you had been afraid but it had been trumped with a numbness that had been to difficult to overcome. Only now did you realize how much danger you had actually been in. It made you shiver a little.

“Can you tell me your name, dear? I’m sorry… Sans didn’t stay long enough to tell me.” She asked and you flinched immediately at the name that she spoke, not wanting to hear it ever again. His apologies did a lot less for you now that you were in your right mind.

You open your mouth to answer before stopping yourself and raising a hand. **“My name is _____. Thank you for looking after me and fixing my head. I didn’t mean to impose.”** You remember that skeleton mentioning monsters didn’t have trouble understanding ASL… maybe this woman would be the same.

The goat woman glanced away from your face in surprise, watching your hands as you move them, up until the last bit. Her eyes filled with tears and she very carefully pulls you forward into a gentle hug. “You are not imposing, sweet child. Taking care of you is the least I can do after everything that has transpired. Please, rest comfortably.

You nod a little, hesitant to return the hug. Your view on monsters shouldn’t be changed just because one of them was cruel and harsh towards you… and this woman had done so much for you. You judge all of monster kind based on one solitary being. So you reach up, hugging her back with one hand, faced pressed into the fur of her shoulder.

She murmurs an apology as she pulls back, sniffling slightly as she wipes the wetness that had appeared in her eyes away. “Ah, look at me, crying over nothing. What a silly thing I am, an old lady working herself up into a tizzy,” She mutters, stepping back a little. “You must be hungry… you didn’t eat anything for the past several days. I’ll fetch you something to help. Please, rest here.”

Possibly to hide the rest of the tears, she hurries towards the door. “My name is Toriel and you need anything at all while I am gone, please, don’t hesitate to call out. I am just around the corner.” She barely looked at you while saying this, still discreetly wiping at the sides of her eyes.

You nod one before she disappears, leaving you to your thoughts.

How had you gotten here again? The last thing you remember was the café, unable to refuse the skeleton as he offered to get you help for your head. He’d taken your head, you felt something akin to fear wash over you, and then everything had gone dark. You hadn’t opened your eyes as warned but you just… you didn’t remember much after that.

It had been so stupid to say yes to him at the time. He had hurt you to a point where forgiveness wasn’t really even possible and yet you’d been so out of it that you’d just head off with him to who knows where without voicing a complaint.

No amount of apologies could make up for what he did or how much it hurt.

You swallow heavily and reach up to rub at the corners of your eyes near the bridge of your nose.

Bad things happen sometimes, you knew, and people made mistakes, but he had done something unforgivable and you’d never be able to forget the feeling that it caused.

You just had to be determined enough to move past it if you wanted to survive at all. Just because you didn’t forgive him doesn’t mean you had to stop your life entirely.

You briefly remember the child’s words when they came to visit you here. You had lost a lot of your determination to keep going, they were right. After all that had happened to you, it felt like the world was a different place than the one you were so accustomed to. SOUL’s, monsters, magic, that intense feeling of fear, you weren’t used to any of it.

And now that they existed around you, you were going to have to get used to all of them.

Glancing around you, you spot something on the side table that gives you pause. A single golden flower remained perfectly healthy there. With shaking hands, you reach for it, plucking it up and spinning it between your fingers.

Sans had mentioned you had one behind your ear. This did look like the one from the void you had taken. It was still alive and bright, the petals as colorful as when you had first plucked it, even a week later.

The child was right. You had to stay determined… or else nothing here, nothing you’d ever lived for, would matter. You’d find a way out of the darkness just like this flower had, even if it meant accepting death and coming back from it one step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Sans/Reader WILL happen eventually, I promise, and it will be all the sweeter for the angst in between. It's not going to be easy to forgive someone who killed you, after all, so they have a long road of recovery on both sides.  
> Don't hate me for cutting it off here. You'll probably get more later tonight. Don't forget to comment below thoughts and vote on the Sans


	9. Too Much Kindness Could Kill a Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[Relatively short chapter since I had my midterms and a flight home today. You'll see more later from me~]]

You hadn’t realized you had dozed off till you found yourself waking up again. No dreams, no nothing, just one minute you were wondering where to go from here and the next your eyes were struggling to open, crusted shut from dust and sleep residue.

You felt better, at least. You weren’t sure when the last time you slept was. It might have been sometime during the week but you had made no real distinction between being awake and asleep during those hours so it hadn’t made much of a difference.

Rubbing at the back of your neck, you sit up, ignoring the tiny crick of pain from having laid in an uncomfortable position for too long. Not the worst you felt though, so you were fine. It’s all relative anyway, right? You couldn’t complain so much about a sore neck after everything else that had happened. It wouldn’t feel right.

There was a faded scent floating throughout the room that was actually pretty heavenly, even if it was muted. The flower that had once been on your hand had returned to the side table, sitting next to a plate with a fairly sizeable piece of pie next to it. It didn’t take much to piece two and two together.

Toriel had come and gone without waking you up. It was… actually rather sweet.

Just the sight of food made your stomach growl hungrily and you lean over the edge of the bed, stretching out to grab a hold of the plate and the fork next to it.

Easy enough to say there was no crumb left on the plate when you were done with it.

There was so much kindness in this house that you were having trouble accepting all of it. Who was this monster to take you in like that, fix you up, mother you and nurse you back to health? You couldn’t even remember the last time you had eaten something handmade like that pie.

You needed to go find her and thank her.

The room was less dark then you remember it last, sunlight flickering through closed blinds off to your right. With the taste of butterscotch and cinnamon still lingering at the back of your throat, you finally stand.

It took a while to find your legs again, body stiff and aching from the lack of movement over the past week, but you make it to the door without any true difficulty.

There was music playing somewhere down the hallway, you notice as you open the door a crack.

You felt a bit awkward heading out into a strangers home like this but there was clearly someone home. What day was it again? Toriel had mentioned it had been about a week, so maybe Thursday or Friday?

Peaking your head around the corner of the hallway, you try to hide all amounts of nervous fatigue that you could as you survey the area the music was coming from.

The house itself, or at least what parts of it you were seeing now, was surprisingly quaint. It had a lived in cottage sort of feel in its decorations, as if someone really loved this place and had taken the time to show it in every tiny detail. The area you were looking at was an open living room and kitchen, pictures on the walls and little mementos on every shelf. The kitchen itself was much more modern, however, and the goat women who was moving around it seemed to be enjoying herself immensely.

“I-I um… Miss T-toriel?” You ask softly, not wanting your presence to be a surprise as you turn the corner slightly into the kitchen, arms wrapped around your stomach in a small attempt to create a sense of security. You could shut up once you got her attention after all.

The women glanced up immediately, eyes bright as they looked at you. “Oh, you’re up! I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you for a while longer,” She was blushing, clearly not used to being caught by a stranger practically dancing around her kitchen as she worked.

“You’re awake!” A small voice you hadn’t noticed before exclaimed and from the other side of Toriel came a barreling figure, charging towards you fast enough that you barely saw them until they were hugging you tightly. The angle you had been at had concealed the child’s form behind Toriel but now they were there, face pressed into your stomach.

Was this… yeah, it was. The same kid from before in the café and the one from the bedroom who had apologized.

“Frisk, right?” You end up asking, feeling the sudden urge to ruffle their hair. You follow through on the impulse as you smile, their face turning up to beam at you.

“I’m so glad you’re alright!” You remember what they had said in the bedroom, mostly. They had been the first thing that had really started to pull you out of that place.

The child nodded happily, flopping hair covering up their eyes just a little so that all you really saw was their smile turning to a little unhappy frown. “You had Mom worried for a while there… me too. We didn’t know what was going on.”

You didn’t even know this kid for longer than thirty seconds but those words pulled at your heart pretty damn hard. You hadn’t meant to scare them, any of them, you had just gotten a bit lost.

Why they even cared, you weren’t sure. According to the skeleton, they thought you had done something horrible to Frisk but honestly, how could anyone do anything to hurt this little angel that was looking up at you so sadly. It wasn’t possible.

“I’m s-sorry for worrying you… both of you,” Your voice cracks as you talk, wincing a little at the sound. “I would have been fine on my own e-eventually, you didn’t have to take me in.” Your words were more directed towards Toriel than Frisk, the goat women standing at a distance with an expression that mirrored the child’s. Well, mirrored it plus a little bit of something more.

Was it guilt? You’d seen a lot of that within the last several days, almost enough to recognize it hidden behind all those other emotions.

“Of course we did, dear, and it was no bother. We both are just glad you are well,” She spoke quickly, stepping forward as Frisk stepped back, her hand being placed on their tiny shoulder, their head bobbing in agreement.

“We just want you to be comfortable here till you are well enough to go home. So please, don’t fret a moment more.” She really was like a mom, constantly trying to take care of you. Or well, Frisk had said she was their mom and even if the obvious… genetics didn’t match up, you could certainly picture the maternal figure as just that.

You nod a little and your shoulders slump slightly, relaxing. You had been thinking of ways to excuse yourself as you had walked out of here but their reassurance had put your mind at rest enough that you didn’t feel you needed to run out of here right away.

Except, well, you kind of did.

“I s-should still, you know, head home soon. I might not be bothering you all but all of my things are over there. ” You needed a shower and to brush your teeth. A new change of clothes would be good too. You didn’t actually say that, however, as your eyes dart down to the ground. There was something you were forgetting here…. Wait.

“Oh god, Tiberius!” You exclaim rather loudly, panicking as you turn to look around the kitchen and towards what you assume was the front door to the house.

Tiberius had been home alone for a week. You usually had enough food out for three days at max. The poor cat was probably starving… you could only hope he broke into the pantry as he sometimes did and gotten into the bag of food you kept there. Still, what if he hadn’t?! He was probably dying of starvation.

You were a horrible owner.

“Tiberius?” Toriel asked, head tilting to the side as she noted your sudden change of behavior, from reluctant to practically frantic as you stare at the door.

Of course she wouldn’t understand your sudden outburst. Your mind was working too fast, trying to figure out the best way to get home. You didn’t even know where you were… what if you didn’t get back in time.

 **“He’s my cat… I’ve been here for a week and no one has been feeding him,** ” You sign, too worried to get your mouth to work a second time.

It was her turn to look worried now as she frowned but surprisingly, it was not her to speak first but Frisk. “We can go get him for you?” They offered happily and you jolt a little. You _had_ signed that last bit, hadn’t you? You could wrap your mind around monsters understanding ASL because of a translation thing with magic or whatever but this child was pretty young. It was a shock they were able to even talk so eloquently, let alone know what you were saying.

 **“That isn’t necessary… it’s my job to take care of him, I should be the one to do it,”** You sign back slowly, fingers inching along to test that they did actually understand you.

“And it’s our job to take care of you, my dear, at least for now. It’s the least we can do after the trouble that’s been caused. We wouldn’t mind getting you some of things while you rest,” Toriel spoke before Frisk could, the child choosing to just nod along as they reached for your hand.

“Let us help. Please? Monsters are pretty good at helping if you let them,” Frisk spoke, nodding towards Toriel who seemed to agree.

Why did part of you actually want to say yes?

You didn’t deserve to be taken care of, let alone by these people. They were probably friends with Sans, to boot, so logically you shouldn’t even trust them. The skeleton had been doing all that stuff to you in the name of this kid, after all. You shouldn’t just agree to stay here with them.

And yet, here you were, signing out a hesitant “ **if you’re sure…”**

Stupid, how you were responding so easily to affection. Stupid how you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling just a little. Apparently compassion was your weakness, you couldn’t say no to someone being kind when you normally were so distant from it.

Frisk bounces up and down a little as they let go of your hand, running to the other side of the kitchen to grab a phone from the little dock on the counter. “Mom, do you think you could get the stuff when you get Papyrus?”

While the two of them discussed, you find yourself taking a seat at one of the stools at the kitchen counter, rubbing at your temples. It was a lot to take in so quickly, this sudden surge of warmth and happiness. After what you had been through, it felt like everything was going to be cold for a very long time.

It was like going from an icebath to a hot tub in the span of a few minutes. You were tempted to just jump right out because it almost burned with how warm and kind everything was.

It seemed the two finally came to some kind of decision as Toriel approached you again.

“Alright, my dear, I think we have figured out a good solution, if you are amiable. I will be heading out to go pick up a close friend of ours for a play date with Frisk. If you are accepting, would you mind me stopping by your home and grabbing you what you need?” All of her words were requests which is good. You were tired of hidden demands layered under polite questions. She really would let you say no if need be.

But you could see Frisk in the background grinning and you couldn’t say no. You were a lost cause from the start.

 **“If you really want to, then I suppose it’s fine. My place isn’t exactly organized though, so I should apologize in advance.”** You smile a little weakly, not even wanting to try to picture what Toriel would be getting into. You never had company over so the only reason to ever clean your house was because you needed to feel a bit more human sometimes instead of a trash monster. It was currently in a state of limbo, not quite clean and not completely destroyed by a tornado of self-deprecation either.

That, and who knows if Tiberius had torn apart the place looking for food to survive. Your heart hurt at just the thought of the poor guy suffering for the last several days while you were just laying there.

One of the main reasons you got a cat was for the accountability it brought. Having someone to take care of gave you a sense of worth and it helped you stay ahead of the game usually. You needed to be awake and alive to feed the little guy, you needed to keep his litter box clean and thus, you should probably keep a lot of things clean. You needed to be back home on time to feed him and bathe him whenever he managed to do something stupid like fall in the toilet. Caring for him helped you, in a lot of ways, care for yourself.

Plus, having him around was a reminder that you weren’t completely alone. That someone would miss you if you left, even if it was just a little gray cat who had a tendency to chew on the side of your couch like a dog.

“Don’t worry, child, I won’t mind. You’ve been through a lot, after all,” She answered, lightly patting you on the shoulder as she turned. “Sans dropped off your things an hour or so after you arrived. Your purse and wallet and such,” She motioned briefly to the door and for the first time, your gaze fell on the familiar bag hanging by the hook there.

How had he gotten that? It had been in the employee room when he had arrived…

Actually, you’d prefer not to know. You’d rather not make yourself sick again.

If Toriel noticed the look of disgust on your expression, she didn’t mention it. Instead she just shuffled to the bag and brought it to you, allowing you to dig out your keys, a piece of paper, and a pen to write your address down.

“I’ll be off shortly… may I ask for you to look after Frisk while I’m gone?” You nod in response though you couldn’t help but feel it was Frisk that was probably going to be looking after you. The kid probably didn’t need a baby sitter, especially not one like you.

But maybe you could interrogate the kid about what had happened if you felt up to it. You were probably more likely to get information from them from Toriel. They had been at the center of all of this, they had to have some information.

Did you feel bad for planning to interrogate a kid? Maybe just a little.

Were you still going to do it anyway?

Yeah, yeah you were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am all for Selective Mute/Mute!Frisk, by the way. I support that theory with all my heart. With that hint in mind, you all should think about why exactly I would write them able to talk. ^-^ Cause there is a reason. 
> 
> People always seem to forget they write animals for their characters. These animals appear like magic whenever the story want them and yet time goes by with the reader away for months without taking care of the pet. Stop the abuse, story writers. I am starting a organization, Writers Against Forgotten Animals or WAFA. *quietly pickets stories* x3
> 
> Also, Reader is not liking all this talking. Poor little bby.


	10. Not Your Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is coming really late and I'm sorry for that. College is a merciless time killer.

You breathe a little shakily as you heard the door close to the home. You were alone, save for the sound of the kid still skittering around in the kitchen. One peek inside led you to realize they were cleaning, swaying back and forth from foot to foot as they seemed to dance to a song you couldn’t hear. Their own little melody. It was terribly sweet that they cleaned even when their mother wasn’t home to watch.

You were beginning to realize that Frisk was a terribly sweet kid. Someone you could probably grow attached to if your heart ever gave you the chance.

It was hard to accept kindness like this from people you did not know. You weren’t used to people being sweet as a general default. Sweetness was reserved for people that you were emotionally connected to and for as long as you could remember; no one had ever stepped close to that sort of level of comfort. You were used to people being amiable and accepting, the few occasionally kindnesses that were permitted to you as a human being, but never this level of unadulterated compassion.

You were a fish out of water here and you didn’t like the feeling.

So maybe yah, you did feel bad about trying to question this family that had helped you. Was it really right to offload your issues on them? Sure, they were somehow part of it but… unlike the skeleton (you were downright refusing to call that monster by his name at this point, even if it was just because of stubbornness) the child and Toriel had never done anything to hurt you.

Still, you had a right to know what part you played in this big messed up drama. Clearly it was a significant one that you got cast as unaware.

Frisk seemed to notice after a short period of time that you were lingering at the kitchen door and interrupted your moral debate with a short wave in front of your face, smiling happily in front of you as they swayed.

“Are you feeling okay?” They seemed to know the answer without you saying anything but still smiled wider when you weakly nodded.

Grabbing for your hand, they pull you towards the couch, lightly pushing you to sit down with their little hands. How old even was this child? You had originally assumed eight or nine but they were way too observant for that.

“Mom says I have an old soul,” Frisk responded cheerfully, not even acknowledging your shock as they seemed to respond to your internal question. Had you asked it out loud, perhaps?

They flop down next to you, crossing their legs underneath themselves applesauce style as they grab for a remote. Entertainment, the tv, you didn’t mind the idea at all. It would be a distraction from the knowing eyes of the child and maybe you would forget this notion about interrogating people. It wasn’t your style anyway, even if you knew you should. It wasn’t kind… and you didn’t want to accidentally say something rude to the child and hurt them. Already they were making you smile too much for you to want to hurt them. Maybe it was just the type of person they were… likeable.

A show flickered on from the tv in front of you, something you didn’t recognize immediately. While you had a tv in your apartment, you rarely used it anymore. There was enough shows online that you could watch it from the comfort of your bed without needing to move to the couch. Plus, work took up more of your hours than anything.

It was some kind of cartoon, a girl and a boy running around an old town with a crazy grandpa, uncle, guy, solving mysteries about a book or something. You started out only vaguely watching but it lulled its way into your mind in such a way that you found yourself engrossed by the time the show ended.

For a while, you didn’t even notice Frisk wasn’t watching the tv anymore, but you.

It was during a commercial that they finally spoke, legs kicking back out from under them as they stretched.

“I’m sorry about Sans,” Their voice spoke so quietly you barely heard them. Still, the name was enough to make you freeze.

 **“You don’t need to apologize for him. You didn’t do anything,”** You were quick to sign, turning your body towards the child to make your movements more clear. They had understood what you were saying earlier so you supposed you didn’t have to talk to make yourself understood.

“It’s still my fault though,” Frisk answered, mouth a thin line of unhappiness. Clearly the tv hadn’t distracted them like it had you… and you were right back to questioning everything once more. Your heart was torn between trying to solve the mysteries here and just… hugging the life out of this kid.

You found the best middle road you could, reaching a hand over to offer Frisk to hold. You never liked the sight of someone in suffering and you’d seen it more than you would care to admit. Those years growing up after your parents… well, they weren’t good for personal moral. The atmosphere didn’t lend itself to happiness of any sort.

 **“Why do you think him doing that was your fault? You weren’t even there. He did that, not you,”** You question, signing as best as you could with your left hand while you held theirs with your right.

Frisk doesn’t respond for a long time, staring hard down at their lap.

“They were just trying to help me. I didn’t think he was going to go that far, I never wanted that.” They answer but it wasn’t quite enough to make sense.

Their eyes dart up to you, a shimmer in the corner of them. “I felt the LOAD, you know. I know what he did.”

It was so quiet that you could have almost felt a pin drop. Seconds ticked by and your heart beat a little harder as you finally put it together. They knew you had died. It made sense now why they were so worried about you.

 **“Oh,”** You motion slowly, not thinking of much more to say as they glance away. Their hand releases yours and they grasp their own together in a tight fist.

“He didn’t… he wouldn’t… I don’t know why he did that,” Frisk sniff a little and their voice wavers physically. They were so close to crying, holding on to the last bit of determination that was keeping the tears from flowing, it would seem.

“I never wanted him to hurt you or anyone else. He was just so upset. I couldn’t stop him.”

Screw it. Reaching forward, you pull the child closer, onto your lap and into the largest hug you could manage. You didn’t even know them and you felt the most instinctual, primal urge to see them happy. Their sadness was hurting you more than you thought possible.

_It wasn’t their fault. You couldn’t blame them._

You feel your scratchy throat work out the words over and over again as you hug them. Why were you feeling such a sudden surge of love? It didn’t matter.

_It’s okay. It’s not their fault. It will be alright._

You rock yourself and them back and forth a little, their head pressed into your shoulder. In truth, they didn’t know you either. They didn’t know who you were or what you were like and yet, they seemed to be hurting so much at the thought of you hurt. Someone so pure as this never deserved anything bad in their lives.

_You refuse to blame them. It happened and it’s over now. It will be okay._

Half of the stuff you were muttering in their ear were things you said to yourself when things were bad. Little ways to bring yourself back when your life felt like it was breaking. It seemed, slowly but surely, to be working. The child’s shaking was beginning to stop and while you felt your shirt sticking to your chest where it was now wet from tears, the sniffling wasn’t as loud.

“I told him not to do it. I did. I knew there was something wrong… but he wouldn’t listen. He just wanted to protect me, us, all of us… and then I was back to right after the argument again.” They muttered into your chest as you stroke a hand over the top of their head, rubbing your free one over their back.

It was hard, seeing someone so young hurt this much. It must have been terrible for them. Even if you didn’t quite know what they were saying, you were getting the gist of it, enough that a vague part of the picture was forming. One piece out of many but it was a piece all the same.

“I didn’t think anyone else would have to go through this.” Frisk muttered finally as their shaking stopped a little. Their body was slumped into your hug, hiding their expression probably from embarrassment. “I thought I could handle it all. The RESET’s… the LOADS.” A very weak cough sounds from them as they push the words out, choking on them almost.

“But you can do it too. Maybe that’s why he thought you had my SOUL.” So much terminology was being spat out that you weren’t quite understanding and you finally were forced to talk.

Making your voice as quiet as possible, as kind as you could put, not wanting to scare them into tears again, you try to get some answers. “I don’t really know what you are talking about, Frisk. I just sort of… woke up someplace dark after what he did and pressed a button or something.” You left out all the details of what got you to that point but something in their eyes made you feel like they knew it without needing words.

They had mentioned having an old soul earlier and you could see it so vividly now. There was a dark look on their face, worn and tired from something that a child never should have been through.

Lips pinched tightly together, their face scrunched up into a frown, they shake their head. “Doesn’t matter… I won’t let it happen again!” They voice turned slowly chipper, bouncing back in only the way someone young could do. All appearances of their ‘old soul’ disappeared as they pounded a small fist down into their palm.

“Stay here! I’ll be right back,” They grin as they bounce off of the couch, eyes no longer teary at all. They looked like a changed person, whatever thought they had spurring them into action as their tiny body flew off towards the kitchen.

And you were left alone to deal with the whirlwind they left behind.

You felt like something had blown in like a hurricane, ripped up your house, and then just blew off without setting it back down again.

It was actually pretty hilarious.

You felt a bubbly of laughter spur up, crawling from the back of your throat and making you shake your head. It had been so much within the last few days for you to take in, so many emotions in some instances, so few emotions in others. It was a relief to be able to feel again, however, even if it was pain. To be able to laugh at the hilarity of a little whirling tornado running off through a house, well, it felt real.

You raise a hand, snickering into the sleeve of your sweater to muffle the sound. No need to bring the kid flying back to check on you like some kind of nurse. Weren’t you supposed to be watching them, not the other way around? It seemed like they had been keeping you company without any real enjoyment on their part, probably because of a guilt they carried that as far as you could tell, they should not have to bear.

You were given little time to rest back into the couches with a small smile before the tornado was back, springing up onto the couch like a pouncing tiger, a phone in their hand.

“Papyrus will be here soon. We can start there!” Frisk said excitedly, handing their phone tight as they scrambled onto your lap, eager to sit there so that they could use their phone and let you see what was going on. They didn’t seem to have any qualms about personal space now, if they ever really had at all.

 **“Isn’t Papyrus your friend coming to visit?”** You sign as your hands wrap around them, allowing them to see them as you sign in front of you both.  You remember someone mentioning the name at least briefly earlier. You had recognized it only briefly as a strange thing to name a child, considering it was a rather popular font, but of course, you also knew reluctantly knew a Sans so maybe it was a more popular thing than you knew.

“Mhm! He’s the best! You can meet him and become friends and then no one will ever want to hurt you again!” They bounced slightly up and down as their fingers typed across their phone and one quick glance down showed some sort of texting app you weren’t really aware of. The only indicator of a brand was the UN in a purple circle up in the corner.

Rather than watch them talk to their friends, you sat back further into the couch. “ **You think I’m going to get killed again, kiddo? I’m pretty sure that was a one time sort of thing.”** One time by a psychopath in disguise but he didn’t seem to be after your head anymore so you weren’t going to allow yourself a consideration of a second attempt.

You didn’t really have the energy for a play date with another kid anyway, monster or human, whatever they were. You were drained pretty heavily from everything that went on and were running on back up reserves as it were.

“Not if they see how nice you are,” They said stubbornly, still typing out rapidly. You could hear a familiar chime from their phone of incoming and outgoing messages nearly every second. Whoever they were talking to was responding just as fast as they could answer.

That was, until they pause entirely to look at you, worry crossing their expression suddenly. “Unless… you don’t like monsters anymore.” They excitement wavered a little, nearly fading completely from behind their eyes, phone dropping on their lap. They glanced over towards the kitchen, searching for someone, maybe Toriel, or whoever would be coming through there later.

It was an interesting though, one you hadn’t really posed to yourself, but it sort of made sense. After all that happened to you, a monster was the one to cause you all that pain.

 **“Nah, I don’t hate monsters, kiddo,”** You respond, poking their cheek slightly to get them to smile again **. “I can’t blame everyone for what one person did to me. It would be fair… and your mom is super nice. No way that I couldn’t like her.”**

It’s much the same as if it had been a human who had done it. You wouldn’t hate every human just because of the horrible actions of one.

Frisk seemed happy with your answer, nodding as they went back to their phone. “Monsters really are the best… I’ll prove it.”

You were sure they would. Just as long as you didn’t have to see any more skeletons for a really long time, you were probably going to be fine.

Seriously, if you saw Sans again, you doubt you would be anything but violent towards him. If he so much as got near you, there was going to be fists flying.

Other monsters, well, they didn’t evoke the same sort of gut hatred as that one horrible person.

Bile rose to the back of your throat just at the thought. For the most part you had been trying your best not to think of him or the alleyway, of the fire that had crawled across your skin as he pulled your soul from your chest and broke it even more than it already was.

 It was sort of sad how it seemed to be in so many pieces but you had been through a lot in your life. It shouldn’t be a huge surprise that you were missing a lot of yourself that should normally been there. You’d felt it, after all, as you went about your day, that there were things missing. Now it just sort of proved it.

It was your soul in your chest right now, you knew it. Only yours. The smiling little kid in your lap wouldn’t have such a broken amalgamate of a soul, not when they were so happy. Just yours.

Anyone who thought differently would be sorely mistaken.

“You’ll stay, right?” Frisk questions out of the blue, head turning to look at you again. Their little determined expression was enough to make you smile and you nod, crossing your hands over your chest. They were so insistent to make sure you were okay, who were you to fault them this.

“I don’t like my friends hurt,” They answered again, hands clasped behind their back as they looked away, bangs almost covering their eyes and offering them a semblance of cover from your gaze. “But I also don’t like my friends hurting each other either.  I’ll make them see you didn’t do anything, I promise.”

Your heart beat a bit faster, warming your chest as you nod. The kindness you were getting here was sort of overflowing, overwhelming you bit by bit… but if this sweet little child considered you a friend, you weren’t going to tell them no. Not now, not ever.

And honestly, the thought of having a friend was enough to make you stay no matter what might have happened before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always loved Frisk interacting with the reader and people wanted to see more of their interaction so here :u  
> Once more, I pose the question... if I as a writer support Frisk being mute, why do you think they talk in this story? Think about it.... it's actually important.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my DA: Lakeore for UT comics and my tumblr: princedeanmon for updates.


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